


Paris Interlude

by roryheadmav



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Bondage, Highlander - Freeform, M/M, Non Consensual, Orgy, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-05-14
Updated: 2002-05-13
Packaged: 2017-10-06 09:43:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roryheadmav/pseuds/roryheadmav
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duncan returns to Paris after his experiences in the desert. When he is reunited with the sheikh who is his spouse, Methos complicates matters by staking his claim on the Highlander's heart. Who will Duncan choose? And who is the mysterious figure from the Highlander's past who is stalking him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mary T. Ewing](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Mary+T.+Ewing).



> This story is the sequel to Mary T. Ewing's Highlander fiction "Desert Interlude". You would need to read Mary's story first to understand this particular tale. You could find it in the link provided below.

Please read Mary T. Ewing's "[Desert Interlude](http://www.mtewing.com)" before proceeding.

 

 

**CHAPTER ONE**   


Inspector LeBrun looked at the slip of paper his commander had given him for the hundredth time, wondering if he had read it wrong. But the address that was scribbled on the note remained unchanged.

Although he was presently assigned to desk duty because of a bad arm, his superior still saw it fit to give the hardworking and tenacious inspector those special cases that he knew only LeBrun could handle. This current assignment was no exception, although it was, in his opinion, a trivial job that does not warrant his experience or expertise.

LeBrun was to pick up the third wife of an Arab dignitary, who had come to France to attend an oil summit, and escort her, together with the Arab's first wife and her six attendants, to the hotel where her husband was staying. Apparently, this lady has been living in Paris for the past two years. The inspector found it curious that Beni Ibn Al Ahmad had allowed his wife to live in a foreign land. Most, if not all, Arab rulers preferred their wives and concubines ensconced in a tightly guarded harem. Either Ahmad no longer adhered to the old ways or else he was a fool. If he were in the desert chieftain's shoes, he certainly would not entrust his wife to the man whom he knew resided in the barge before him, bobbing along on the Seine.

Duncan MacLeod.... Just the name of the man caused resentment and anger to fill LeBrun's heart.

MacLeod had been a thorn in his side in some of the difficult cases he had been investigating. It was during the manhunt for the assassin Kuyler that he had sustained the gunshot wound that cost him the efficient use of his arm. In some way, MacLeod was involved with Kuyler, but the Scot had refused to cooperate with him. Still, he had  
promised the wounded investigator that he would take care of the assassin.

Sure enough, Kuyler was later found dead, his head cut off, in a mannequin factory. Because of a traitor in the police force who had allied himself with Kuyler, LeBrun had learned that the Scot had a rendezvous with the assassin at the said factory. He firmly believed that it was MacLeod who had killed Kuyler. Unfortunately, the inspector was never able to prove it, because the Scot had a tight alibi, which was supported by his fiancee, the late Tessa Noel.

Their paths had crossed a few more times after that, but he was never able to pin anything down on the Scot. When he was eventually relegated behind a desk, he simply resigned himself to the fact that proving MacLeod guilty of any wrongdoing was a virtual impossibility.

Never did LeBrun imagine that he would find himself standing on this particular quay once more, watching the barge of the man whom he considered his foil, despite the discreet assistance that the Scot has given him many times in the past.

_There must be some mistake,_ LeBrun scratched his bald pate in confusion.

A tiny voice inside him, however, told him that there was no mistake; this was the right place. If it weren't, Ahmad's senior wife Nagat and her attendants would never have had the audacity to board the barge without a by your leave. This was something to ponder upon. To the investigator, it seemed everyone important, whether they be good or evil, came to the doorstep of Duncan MacLeod.

LeBrun glanced at his watch. It's been two and a half hours. What were they doing in there?

Suddenly, there was activity on the deck, as the female attendants appeared topside. They bent down to assist their lady, who was dressed in an elegant gray black abayah, or top dress, which was slitted in front to reveal the elaborate beadwork of her traditional dishdashah underneath. Her head and the lower half of her face were covered by a shimmering hejab of woven silk. While LeBrun observed the women, it was then that Duncan himself emerged on deck. At the sight of the Scot, a frown immediately furrowed the inspector's brow.

It surprised LeBrun to see MacLeod dressed in the same style of clothing as the women. His abayah was of the darkest blue that, at first glance, the garment looked black. Made from the finest watered down silk, the outer clothing was adorned with silver and gold trimmings. With the abayah not yet belted at the waist by the sash, the lavish work of art that was the Scot's dishdashah was revealed. Painstakingly embroidered on the inner garment was a beautiful oasis of hundreds of multicolored glass beads, complete with palm trees, a shimmering blue pool and a red sun. Prancing in the center of the design was a silver white Arab stallion. The beadwork itself sparkled in the bright afternoon sun. As he looked closely at the Scot's dishdashah, LeBrun gasped in shock, realizing that they were not beads at all, but precious gems sewn together with gold thread. The stallion itself was made from diamonds. Unlike Ahmad's wife, MacLeod's shoulder length brown hair was left flying free in the Paris breeze, but the Scot's head would not be left uncovered for long. Instead of the traditional male Arab headdress called the Thagiyah, what he held in his hand was definitely a royal blue woman's hejab.

LeBrun waited for another woman to appear, but there was no one else. Only Nagat, the six attendants, and Duncan MacLeod.

Together, they disembarked from the barge -- Nagat first, followed by MacLeod, with the attendants at their rear -- and approached the inspector, who stood waiting for them beside the two parked limousines. LeBrun's eyebrows cocked up in surprise, noting that the Scot's face was done up like a woman's. MacLeod's face was lightly dusted with powder and blush, full lips tinged with pink. His expressive brown eyes were shaded with kohl. An even deeper blush went up the Scot's cheeks, noticing the French investigator's intense perusal.

It was Nagat who voiced out her displeasure first. "It is not polite to stare, Inspector LeBrun. In our country, your eyes would be plucked out in an instant."

"Forgive me, Madam," LeBrun bowed to the imperious woman. "It's just that I've known Mr. MacLeod here for quite some time, and this is the first time I've seen him dressed..."

"In a ridiculous outfit such as this?" MacLeod concluded the inspector's statement for him, eliciting a sharp glare from Nagat.

"That's not what I was going to say," the investigator countered, although inwardly, he added, _But I must admit the thought had crossed my mind._

MacLeod breathed an exasperated sigh. "I told you this would happen, Nagat. For the life of me, I cannot fathom what possessed Ahmad to send me these clothes. I shouldn't be wearing these. Not only is it very heavy and it scratches on my skin, it makes me feel like I'm a walking target for all the thieves in Paris."

"Next to seeing you in nothing," Nagat began, "you know that Ahmad desires to cloth you in finery. He spared no expense, not to mention personally raided the royal treasury in order to find the right gems, just to have this made for you."

"But this is too much!" he whined, flopping his arms wearily to his sides. "What if I break a thread, and a sapphire or a diamond goes missing?"

Nagat took MacLeod's hands -- the left bearing a signet ring with a stallion emblazoned on it and the right a gold band on his wrist -- and patted them comfortingly. "Don't worry, Duncan. I doubt that he will punish you severely for a missing bauble. I'm sure he'll think of a suitable punishment that the both of you will enjoy."

MacLeod groaned at that remark. With a forlorn shake of his head, he mumbled, "That's what I'm afraid of!"

"Why don't you look at it this way? What if you went to Ahmad dressed in western clothing and, knowing him, he will...introduce...you to his friends and colleagues in the diplomatic corps? If you'll just be a good boy and wear all these..." She gestured to the hejab, meaning to include the veil. "...You'll be spared from the embarrassment when people find out who you truly are to him."

Grudgingly, Duncan nodded in weary surrender. "Again, I am forced to accede to your wisdom, Nagat. But may I just wear my hejab before we actually arrive at the hotel?" He glanced at a truly perplexed LeBrun. "As he said, the inspector here knows me. There is no need to cover my face in his presence."

"If that is your wish, but I will ride in the car with you. I cannot allow your virtue left undefended."

"Believe me, Madam!" the inspector declared. "He is definitely not my type."

Before the Scot could argue, Nagat ordered the attendants to get into the other limousine. "Ahmad tasked me to see to your well-being, Duncan, and I will do as he bid me. Besides, it is my duty, being the senior of all his wives and concubines." She turned glaring eyes to the investigator. "If you know what is good for you, inspector, you  
will treat Mr. MacLeod here with the utmost respect."

His face flushing hotly, LeBrun somehow managed to open the door for the proud woman who quickly got inside. Despite Nagat's warning, he looked at the embarrassed Scot and demanded, "What the hell is she talking about, MacLeod? Since when did I have to accord you any respect?"

"I advice you to keep a civil tongue, Inspector LeBrun," Nagat declared sharply. "You do not know who you are talking to. Duncan is..."

"Please, Nagat!" Duncan hastily interrupted her. "He is...a friend. Let me be the one to tell him."

"Tell me what?" LeBrun declared. "And where's the woman that I'm supposed to escort?"

The Scot breathed in deeply. "There is no other woman, LeBrun. You already have what you came here for."

The inspector shook his head in utter bewilderment. "I don't understand."

Duncan MacLeod gave the police investigator an embarrassed little smile, a becoming blush rising on his cheeks, as he opened his arms. "I stand before you now, Inspector LeBrun. I am Beni Ibn Al Ahmad's third wife."

 


	2. Chapter 2

Please read Mary T. Ewing's "[Desert Interlude](http://www.mtewing.com)" before proceeding.

 

**CHAPTER TWO**  
&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;  
&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;

The limousines plodded along the major thoroughfares of Paris, caught in rush hour traffic. The sweltering heat of idling engines made it all the more uncomfortable for the already tense riders inside one car.

It took considerable effort on Inspector LeBrun's part not to fidget in place. At the last minute, Nagat had decided to change seats, so that she was facing the French investigator. LeBrun could only thank his lucky stars that no one has ever died from a piercing glare. Still, Nagat made him feel like a schoolboy again, with the way her  
coal black eyes stared unblinkingly at him.

Sensing the tension between the two, Duncan decided to break the ice. Unfortunately, he started off the conversation with the wrong question.

"Uh...Inspector LeBrun," the Highlander quietly began, "how's your arm?"

The inspector looked sharply at the man beside him, feeling the anger and resentment surge up inside his heart. Instead of answering the polite query, LeBrun asked in derision, "What the hell happened to you, MacLeod? There was a time when adoring women came to your doorstep. All those beautiful women couldn't satisfy you anymore, is that it? That is why you desire...variety. Judging from the way you look now, I'd say you've learned to enjoy the role of a subservient woman. Tell me, MacLeod. How many times did he bed you? Did you scream in pleasure when he thrust his cock inside your ass?"

LeBrun's head whipped to the side from the force of the slap on his face. With fire blazing in his eyes, he glared at the Scot, only to find that MacLeod's head was lowered. As it turned out, it was Nagat who had struck him.

"Your mouth is filthy!" Nagat declared in fury. "If I had a dagger, I would cut out your tongue this instant! I will speak to my husband about the disrespect you have shown one of his wives! He will have you thrown out of the police force!"

"Nagat, please!" Duncan interrupted her tirade. "It's all right."

"You call this 'all right'? Duncan, this impudent fool insulted you!"

"He has every right to ask these questions. My...change...must've come as a great shock for him. Inspector LeBrun and I go a long way and, impertinent though he may seem to be, he is a good man, dedicated to his work and the pursuit of justice."

At the Scot's words, Nagat fell into grudging silence.

The Highlander gazed at LeBrun, a weak smile on his lips. "So you want to know what happened to me, Inspector? Very well then." Taking a deep breath, he relaxed into his seat.

"Two years ago," Duncan began his tale, "I accepted a job in Saudi Arabia to serve as a historical consultant for an archaeological dig. While en route to Riyadh, I stopped to have a drink in a café in Al Badi. Little did I know that I had caught the eye of a sheik, and that he had requested the café owner to put a drug in my drink. When I awoke, I was a prisoner of Beni Ibn Al Ahmad. But I wasn't an ordinary prisoner. Ahmad desired to have me for his slave...his concubine, to be exact. In a few days, I found myself in the harem of the desert chieftain's palace."

"And what did you do there?" LeBrun inquired, realizing, to his chagrin, that it was a stupid question to ask in the first place. The scorn had vanished in the investigator's words, his curiosity piqued by the Scot's desert adventure.

"My dear LeBrun! Need you ask that question? You said it yourself earlier. I screamed when he fucked me. I was a virgin after all, when it came to relations between men."

The inspector stared in shock at MacLeod. He didn't know how he should react at the Highlander's confirmation of his suspicions.

"It's not what you think, Inspector," Duncan waved two hands before him. "I never went to him willingly. Those first few times, I would even go so far as to say that Ahmad raped me."

Nagat suddenly interjected, "That is not true! Ahmad treated you well, but..."

"But I rebuked him," Duncan continued for her, causing the senior wife to fall silent once more. "Nagat is right. In truth, Ahmad was a kind man, a patient and considerate lover. However, I refused to see him for the person he truly was, all because I couldn't accept the idea of my being wedded to, much more bedded by another man. My heart, though, had other plans. Although my mind and my conscience cried out against it, I ended up falling in love with him."

The Scot shrugged, a pout on his full lips. "Despite this, I continued to reject him. I even called him insulting names. Eventually, Ahmad lost patience with me. To teach me a lesson I would never forget, he decided to share my body with a visiting desert chieftain named Abdullah El Sibae and left me at his not so tender mercies. Not only did Abdullah and his men abuse me, they tortured me to the point that...dark memories...from my past resurfaced, and my mind shattered. That wasn't the first time that I had been beaten and  
raped, LeBrun. I had suffered a similar savage violation as a child of nine years old."

LeBrun was at a total loss for words. Everything he believed the man beside him to be just went gurgling down the proverbial drain. He was wrong about MacLeod, so dreadfully wrong. A deep shame filled his entire being, remembering how he had insulted the Highlander earlier.

Lost in guilty thought, the inspector's heart jumped when Duncan softly continued, "It was Ahmad who nursed me back to health, you know. Mental wreck that I was, he never gave up on me. It was only to him that I had told my terrible childhood experience. Ahmad rid me of my demons, including the Arab who had brutally violated me. After  
that, I couldn't deny what I felt for him anymore. I was ready to become his wife. Ahmad, however, had other plans."

A light laugh escaped the Scot's lips. "Would you believe Ahmad had decided to set me free? I didn't want to leave him, but he insisted that I go, to return to the life that I had known. But I was determined to stay. In the end, we arrived at a different arrangement. I returned to Paris, but not before we exchanged our own version of the Vows."

The Highlander raised his hands, showing to the inspector the gold band and the ring. "It was my decision to keep this gold band, to remind me of what I was and still am to Ahmad -- a slave to his scorching desert passions. As for this ring, it signifies that I am  
not only his wife, but his equal in all things." Duncan lovingly pressed his lips to the stallion design of the ring. "Even though there is a wide distance between us, we are bonded together, Ahmad and I, as brothers in arms, as men of worth, and as one body, heart and soul. Ahmad swore that he would come to me here in Paris, and now he has fulfilled his promise." He looked firmly at the investigator. "I feel no shame, LeBrun. Even if I share Beni Ibn Al Ahmad's bed, my manhood remains intact, and I have regained the peace of mind and spirit that I thought was lost to me when I was abused as  
a child."

"So you see, Inspector, why we value Duncan so highly," Nagat finally broke her silence. "He is not just my husband's third wife. He means more to us than a mere sex slave, not only to Ahmad, but to everyone in the palace. We will not allow anyone to hurt Duncan, and that includes you. Do I make myself clear?"

LeBrun could only nod absentmindedly as he lapsed into deep thought. It was very obvious to him how enamored the Highlander was with his "husband". After what MacLeod had been through, it was a natural reaction for him to stick with the man whom he believed saved him. Duncan had completely forgotten that Ahmad had not only raped him, but permitted his abuse at the hands of other men as well. He had seen this behavior before among kidnapping victims who fell "madly in love" with one of their abductors, thinking that their family had abandoned them. It disturbed him great to see this sign of  
vulnerability in this confident Scot.

"Thank goodness we have arrived!" Nagat's exclamation of relief shook LeBrun out of his reverie. It also surprised the inspector to find that the hejab now securely covered the Highlander's head and the lower half of his face. With only those expressive brown eyes showing, except for his height, no one would suspect that he was a man.

As they parked in the driveway, the investigator got out and offered his assistance to Ahmad's senior wife, but she brusquely swept past him and was immediately surrounded by her attendants. Before he realized he was doing it, he was offering his hand to MacLeod as well. There was a look of startlement in Duncan's eyes, wondering what had possessed the inspector to offer his assist. In the end, he laid his right hand in LeBrun's palm, allowing the police officer to help him get down from the limousine. Before he could draw back his hand, however, the inspector's grip tightened around it. Duncan  
blinked questioningly at the investigator.

"There is something...not right...about this relationship you have with Beni Ibn Al Ahmad," LeBrun stated frankly.

"And I don't blame you for thinking this way," Duncan replied in understanding. "I've seen how disgusted you were when you found out about me and Ahmad."

"No, I didn't mean that."

"Huh?"

"MacLeod, are you absolutely certain about what you feel for him? You might be just...blinded...by the kindness he had shown you."

The Highlander sighed. "You're thinking of something along the lines of Patty Hearst. No, Inspector. It wasn't anything like that."

"Have you forgotten that he had raped you himself?" LeBrun reminded him. "That he gave you to other men to be abused as punishment because you had rejected him?"

"Ahmad has more than made up for what he had done to me, and I have forgiven him." MacLeod granted the inspector a gracious nod. "I thank you so much for your concern, LeBrun, but you have nothing to worry about. We love each other deeply."

"Do you? Are you so sure about this? Even the heart could be misled, you know."

For a moment, the Scot didn't answer as pain and sorrow filled his eyes. That vision of sadness, however, was only fleeting. Regaining his composure, he looked the inspector straight in the eye.

"I love Beni Ibn Al Ahmad, Inspector LeBrun," Duncan said strongly. "There is no one else."

"Duncan!" Nagat called near the lobby doors, her sharp gaze focused again on the meddling inspector. "Is there a problem?"

"It's nothing," he reassured her. "Inspector LeBrun here was just asking me something." Duncan gave the police officer a polite bow. "Now, if you'll excuse me, my husband awaits me." Saying this, he hurried towards the sheik's senior wife and, together with their attendants, entered the hotel.

Something inside LeBrun urged him to follow the entourage. Without thinking twice, he went inside the hotel as well...only to find them standing as still as statues at the outer perimeter of the waiting lounge, staring at the tall Arab moor surrounded by a bevy of  
beautiful young women. He even had his arms draped over the shoulders of one white French beauty on his right and a voluptuous Black woman on his left. It was something that didn't surprise the inspector. Beni Ibn Al Ahmad was a strikingly handsome man. Following behind the laughing sheik and his admirers was another Black man, who seemed embarrassed at the behavior of his ruler.

Nagat remained impassive as she watched the desert chieftain. It seemed she was accustomed to her husband's proclivities. The same could not be said for the Scot, however. Judging from his stiffening form, Duncan never expected to be greeted by the sight of Ahmad flirting with other women. LeBrun could definitely sense a disaster  
coming.

In the few striding steps it took to cross the distance between him and the Arab, Duncan had removed his abayah and whipped off the hejab from his head, drawing gasps from Nagat and the women. Even the Black man had turned visibly pale at the Scot's actions. But Duncan couldn't care less, determined as he was to confront his philandering lover.

"AHMAD!" the Highlander declared in jealous fury. "WHAT THE HELL'S THE MEANING OF THIS?"

The desert chieftain was caught by surprise as he stared at the form of his very angry wife. In fact, everyone in the lobby, LeBrun included, found themselves gaping at the Scot.

It turned out that Duncan's dishdashah was made from the sheerest dark blue silk. So thin was the material that the bright light of the chandeliers silhouetted his graceful form. With the notable exception of the curled toed slippers on his feet, underneath, the Highlander was totally naked.

"My Lord?" one of the women tittered to the abashed sheik, licking her lips lustfully at the sight of the masculine beauty before her. "Perhaps you would introduce us to this gorgeous gentleman."

The Scot looked at the women one by one with visible scorn, a smirk forming on his lips. "This 'gorgeous gentleman' happens to be Beni Ibn Al Ahmad's third wife." At that reply, the women gasped in shock, instinctively backing away from the desert chieftain.

"Duncan, you..." Ahmad was about to admonish his beloved, but the Highlander silenced him with a piercing glare.

"Once you're through with your...amusements," Duncan began balefully, "you'll find me in our suite, unless of course I get impatient and decide to return to my barge. Even if you do come to our room, I seriously doubt if you would enjoy our...reunion." He turned to Nagat and the others. "Ladies? Shall we go?" Looking at the grinning Black man, he ordered as well, "Jai, I suggest you come along with us as well. It is your duty to protect us, not your Master and his..." Not knowing how to describe the flirts that had chosen to  
attach to his husband like leeches, Duncan waved his hand dismissingly.

Before he could go, LeBrun came forward and took his hand again.

'"Why, Inspector?" Duncan asked teasingly, eliciting a jealous glower from his husband. "I only asked how your arm was. This is twice you gave me a demonstration of your arm's strength."

Blushing at the dubious attention that was now focused on him, LeBrun leaned close to the Highlander and whispered, "If you should need my help, Duncan, do not hesitate to call me. I'll be here for you."

The Scot looked at the inspector in surprise. This was the first time that LeBrun had called him by his first name. He was tempted to ask if they were now friends, but it was a question that need not be asked. He could see it on the inspector's face that he meant every word he said.

"I'll remember that, Inspector LeBrun," he said, smiling in relief. "But I'll be all right."

Saying this, the Highlander stormed up the grand staircase, heading for the elevators, with Nagat, the attendants and Jai close at his heels.

Ahmad flashed a dazzling smile at his female companions. "Excuse me, ladies. But I have a serious household problem I have to deal with." Granting the French investigator a sharp glare, completely forgetting all dignified posturings, the sheik raced after his angry wives.

LeBrun was left speechless by the spectacle he had just witnessed. He was already close to believing that the Scot and the desert chieftain were truly in love. But he still couldn't shake the feeling that something was dreadfully wrong.

Suddenly, it popped into the inspector's head what it was that was bothering him. It was Duncan's last words to him.

_"I love Beni Ibn Al Ahmad, Inspector LeBrun. There is no one else."_

A denial to a question he never asked.

Inspector LeBrun shook his head in dismay, realizing that he had to keep a close eye on the Highlander. There wasn't any doubt in his mind that Duncan MacLeod had fallen in love with someone else.

The question was WHO?

 


	3. Chapter 3

Please read Mary T. Ewing's "[Desert Interlude](http://www.mtewing.com)" before proceeding.

 

**CHAPTER THREE**

 

Inanna was beside herself with glee as she brushed the Highlander's silken tresses, after hearing what had happened in the hotel lobby from Nagat. For once, the senior wife didn't even bother to silence the giggles of the attendants. Even stern-faced Jai had a pursed smile on his face.

"Oh, Allah!" Ahmad's second wife laughed breathlessly. "What I would have given to see the look on our husband's face!"

"It wasn't just our husband, Inanna," Nagat snorted in disapproval. "Everyone was staring at Duncan, including that most annoying inspector with a head like a crystal ball."

Duncan would've laughed at the way Nagat had described Inspector LeBrun, but he was still too angry with Ahmad to think about anyone else. "I've waited two years for him to visit me here in Paris, and he meets me with a group of cheap floosies?" He looked suspiciously at the two women. "Is he hunting for a wife again?"

"Ahmad is just being Ahmad," Inanna answered patiently. "He is a man after all and he needs the diversion."

"So there have been other women when we were apart."

"Yes," Nagat confirmed it, "but he only has three wives, and it is you he missed most of all."

The Scot grimaced at that last. "Well, he has a funny way of showing it." He sighed in exasperation. "This is pointless. I'm not waiting for that philanderer any longer. Where are my regular clothes, Inanna? I'll just take a quick bath and get rid of these...other  
stuff." Then, without warning, Duncan slammed his fist on the table in frustration, causing everyone to jump. "DAMN HIM! To think I went through all this trouble for him!" Abruptly, he stood and said, "Never mind about my clothes. I'll just borrow a clean, less expensive thoub and go down to the haberdashery to buy a coat. I just  
want to go back home."

Suddenly, the door banged open, revealing a breathless Beni Ibn Al Ahmad. The desert chieftain had been earlier accosted by some businessmen, and throughout their meeting, he feared that his third wife had already left. He was relieved to see Duncan still inside his suite.

Turning briefly to his French assistant, he ordered, "I will not receive any calls this evening. Tell everyone that I will attend to business tomorrow." The man only managed a small nod, before the sheik closed the door in his face.

All in the room, except the Highlander, gave their Master a reverent bow. Duncan even turned his back to his husband to show his disdain. Ahmad felt his heart sink at the sight of that reticent form.

"Everyone, please leave us," he dismissed the women and the eunuch with a wave of his hand.

Bowing once more, Jai escorted the women to the adjoining suite via a side door and locked it.

When they were finally alone, a broad, eager grin formed on Ahmad's face. "It's been two years, my pet. Did you miss me?"

Duncan smarted at that endearment that the desert chieftain persisted in calling him. "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? I can't believe you would still dare to call me your 'pet' after that atrocious scene I had stumbled upon in the lobby earlier."

"Can I help it if your husband happens to be a dashing gentleman? The women came to me, not the other way around."

"Well, you didn't seem bothered too much by all those perfumed leeches. You were obviously enjoying their company that you've completely forgotten that your third wife was coming to meet you."

Ahmad sidled over to the Highlander. Duncan's eyes narrowed as the moor laid both hands on his shoulders.

"Duncan, my sweet," the sheik asked with a raise of one knowing brow. "I seem to detect a tone of jealousy in your voice."

"Me? Jealous? HAH!" the Scot declared haughtily. "Why should I be jealous? May I remind you, my dear Ahmad, that there are a lot of men out there in the world, some of them more good-looking than you."

Duncan suddenly found himself whirled around and crushed in a bear hug.

"You belong to me alone, Duncan," Ahmad breathed in his ear. "No other man shall have you except for me."

"There is an inequity here," the Highlander observed. "I am not permitted to be with anyone else, but you are free to sow your wild oats."

"But I am a man, and you are my wife."

"In case you've forgotten, I am also a man. I may be your wife in name, but I am not female. Ahmad, this is most unfair to me."

"Tell me, Duncan. In the two years that we've been apart, can you honestly tell me that you've been with no other -- woman or man?"

The Scot turned away so that the desert chieftain would not see the flash of hurt in his eyes. "I've had other...concerns. Besides, no one had shown any interest in me, at least, not in THAT way."

"And this saddens you?"

"In some way, it does. It is too much to ask to be wanted…loved…"

Ahmad gently made his lover turn around to face him. Placing his fingertips on that chiseled chin, he bade the younger man to lift his head.

Smiling in reassurance, Ahmad said, "Well, I am here now. Can you forgive me for what I've done, and for not coming to you sooner?"

Duncan lifted his hand to the moor's face. "Don't say any more. Please, Ahmad? Just kiss me!"

It was a request that the desert chieftain could not deny. Slowly, he leaned down, ready to capture his beloved's lips with his own mouth. Before their lips could meet, however, a noisy rumble interrupted their passions.

Grimacing, Duncan glanced down at his flustered husband's belly. "You were so busy flirting with other women you've forgotten to eat?"

Growling to mask his hungry stomach, Ahmad gallantly declared, "No, my pet! I'm simply hungry for you!"

"Well," the Scot began with a sweet smile, "perhaps I could satisfy your cravings for food AND my body." As Ahmad looked on in stunned surprise, Duncan gracefully shrugged off his dishdashah to reveal what lay underneath.

At first glance, the sheik thought that his lover's luscious body was adorned with precious jewels. But as he looked closer, he realized that they were not gems at all, but crystal candies. Like a mosaic, golden bits were pasted to those tiny nipples, from which radiated alternating orange and yellow rays like a blazing sun. A beautiful candy rainbow streaked across the Highlander's abdomen, ending in the star-shaped cherry drop that was tucked in the hollow of his navel. Around his trim waist was a licorice belt, from which dangled candy bangles in assorted shapes and sizes. The belt itself was attached to the pouch of chocolate that sheathed Duncan's manly assets. Turning his body a bit to the side, the Scot showed his husband the strawberry heart at the small of his back, its tip enticingly pointed to the deep crack between those melon buttocks.

Unable to control his urges any longer, Ahmad eagerly lifted Duncan in his arms and carried him over to the bed. "You look so delicious I could eat you alive!"

"I would consider it an insult if you don't."

This time, it was the Highlander's turn to be more aggressive. Placing his hands on the moor's neck, he pulled Ahmad to him, their lips touching at last. After this, no more words were needed. The willing feast in his arms proved to be a temptation that the desert  
chieftain could no longer resist.

With his passions and hunger urging him on, Ahmad drifted down to his first favorite portion of his wife's anatomy -- his broad chest. Nipping a candy gem from the rays radiating from that sensitive nub of flesh, he took it inside his mouth, the tang of orange tickling his tongue. Gently, he plucked more of the sweet bits, the edible glue that had stuck them to that golden skin giving way, causing Duncan to giggle at the sensation. Ahmad enjoyed the tastes of honey, lemon and melon. He went around each mound of bosom, thoroughly devouring the candy rays, but not the twin suns of desire.

Duncan gasped, instinctively thrusting his chest into that ravenous mouth, as Ahmad nipped a butterscotch tidbit from the tip of his right nipple. Capturing that candy-encrusted areola in his mouth drew a delighted shiver all over the Highlander's body. Moaning in bliss, Duncan cradled the desert chieftain's head with his hands, as the  
mortal suckled upon him. Even when he had already consumed all the candy from that sweet tit, he was still hungry for more that he crossed over to the other nipple still waiting for his lavish attention.

The minute Ahmad had engulfed that sensitive nub, Duncan's neglected cock broke free from its moorings. The lower girdle snapped, slipping to the bedspread, while the Scot's rod burst out of the pouch, the heat radiating from it melting the chocolate into delicious ooze.

Ahmad laughed, feeling the chocolate smearing both their groins. As though patting a favorite pet, the sheik ran his left hand fondly over that silken weapon, the gesture only encouraging it to rise to its full length.

"Getting impatient for me, precious?" he mumbled teasingly. "But I still have this scrumptious rainbow and this sweet cherry that I need to consume first?" The desert chieftain even let his fingers walk down that candy rainbow before poking at the cherry in the Highlander's navel. Ahmad was gratified by the sight of the pearly white drop that formed on the tip.

"May Allah take your head if you don't stop tormenting me!" Duncan growled menacingly. "Ahmad, please! I can't take much more of this. You can eat the rainbow later for dessert."

"But I thought you were the dessert, my pet." Seeing the scowl on his beloved's face, Ahmad sighed. "Let it not be said that I am not a merciful man."

At these words, Ahmad swooped down and took that aching member down to the root in one long, hard swallow -- flesh and chocolate together. The more he squeezed that rod of passion with the muscles of his throat, the more he imbibed that liquefying chocolate inside his mouth. In a feat of oral dexterity, he slid up and down Duncan's scrumptious cock, with each descent, his tongue snaked out to lick more of that brown syrup from his scrotum. With that luscious torture, the Highlander could no longer hold back.

A cry escaped his lips as he shot his load into Ahmad's waiting maw again and again and again. With greedy slurping noises, the desert chieftain sucked his lover until he could spend no more, relishing the intoxicating flavor of chocolate and man seed. Combined, it was a most potent aphrodisiac.

Before Duncan could even breathe, he found himself flipped onto his belly. Bursting into hearty giggles, he started to squirm as Ahmad licked and nipped the strawberry heart off his back. There was a moment's respite when the sheik finally consumed the candy tattoo. But then, Ahmad turned him over once more, allowing the younger Scot to view his leering visage. Grinning as well, Duncan raised his legs and locked them behind his beloved's neck.

"Well, my husband?" he inquired seductively, spreading his thighs to reveal the budding blossom hidden within the crevice of his buttocks. "How long are you going to keep me waiting?"

"Not a second longer, my pet."

Slicking his own aching cock with his spittle, Ahmad positioned his weapon over that puckered opening.

Duncan bucked powerfully as Ahmad thrust into him hard. The moor's head brushed against his gland, causing him to scream out his ecstasy. Lustful urges took over completely as they coupled with wild abandon. Like a randy stallion, Ahmad pounded again and again and again into his pretty Highland mare, who met those strong thrusts  
with graceful undulations of his hips, taking his lover deep into the pit of his belly.

Lost in desire for his lover, Ahmad had completely forgotten that he was going to have a visitor in his suite that evening. In fact, the sheik's guest was already walking down the hallway. Just as Ahmad's visitor paused at the door, Duncan was jolted by the Buzz of Immortal presence. Unfortunately for the Scot, he and his lover had already reached the peak and there was no turning back.

Their screams of rapture spurred Ahmad's guest into action, fearing that a massacre was being committed inside the suite.

The sudden entrance caught the desert chieftain and his wife totally by surprise. Neither man thought of pulling up the covers to regain a semblance of modesty to their lust-flushed, bare forms.

But the Highlander's horror was greater, his expressive brown eyes reflecting his startlement, his disbelief and his overwhelming guilt. Even the figure standing at the doorway was just as stunned.

In his shock, Duncan found himself gasping out the name of Ahmad's visitor. The name which he was never supposed to reveal to anyone -- mortal or Immortal.

"METHOS!"


	4. Chapter 4

Please read Mary T. Ewing's "[Desert Interlude](http://www.mtewing.com)" before proceeding.

 

**CHAPTER FOUR**

 

Ahmad's limousine drove through the evening streets of Paris, carrying two silent passengers in its back. It was not as if they didn't have anything to say to each other. They just couldn't find the right words to begin a friendly conversation, to break the unnerving silence, fearing that they would hurt the other. The silence was tolerable, although the tension between them was suffocating.

Methos fought the urge to steal a glance at the young man beside him, but his efforts were for naught as longing proved stronger. Rather than grant his fellow Immortal a mere glance, he stared directly at him.

Duncan was dressed in a black dishdashah, not as ostentatious as the one the ancient had heard the younger man had worn earlier, but elegant nonetheless with its beautiful beadwork of celestial designs. His head was lowered, face shielded by a curtain of glossy brown hair. Methos knew that the Highlander had sensed his perusal, judging from the way his body began to stiffen.

Although the urge to speak was strong, the Old Man bit down on his tongue to stop himself from asking the curt questions that were on the verge of spilling out. With a soft sigh, he turned his gaze back to the passing scenery.

"I've been working for Beni Ibn Al Ahmad for a year now as a historian," Methos quietly said instead, hoping to make peaceful conversation. "He had learned of my research work at the university, and he believed that I was the right man to assist him in documenting the lives of his people. That's the reason why I left you abruptly the way I had. You can't say no to Ahmad."

There was no reply from the younger man, but his hands clenched into tight fists. By that gesture alone, the ancient knew what was on the Scot's mind.

_Don't lie to yourself, Methos. Why don't you just admit that the real reason why you left is because you couldn't acknowledge your true feelings for me! After all, this isn't the first time that you did this to me._

Nervous, Methos continued with his narrative. "I lived in Ahmad's palace -- spent long hours going through ancient scrolls and interviewing the tribal elders and his loyal subjects. It was during my talks with them that I learned of the existence of Ahmad's third  
wife, a wife whom the Sheikh had allowed to live in a foreign land. It was unprecedented, I thought. No desert chieftain would allow his women to be far from him. They were meant to be secluded in a harem." He hesitated for a moment. "I never knew..."

"That I was Beni Ibn Al Ahmad's third wife?" Duncan at last broke his silence. "I'm happy to see that my husband's subjects had kept the secret well. It was my desire that they tell no one who I am. Even if you had known back then, what would you have done?"

Methos couldn't answer that query, not knowing exactly what to say.

"I guessed as much." The Highlander looked sharply at the Old Man. "Then again, you went to Saudi Arabia a year too late. If you had met Ahmad two years ago, perhaps you would've seen me in his harem. Of course, I seriously doubt it if you would've made any moves to save me."

"Why would I not save you? We're good friends, are we not?"

Duncan let out a bitter laugh. "Yes, we are that, aren't we? Just friends."

"Mac...don't tell me you're still holding a grudge against me!"

"What we have between us is more than a grudge and you know it!"

"Duncan, I never intended to break your heart!"

"Not once but twice you misled me into believing that you loved me, when in fact the only thing you wanted was to fuck me! That first time you left me, after I told you that I couldn't do what you asked of me, you hurt me so badly that I made the decision to go to Saudi Arabia. Perhaps with the different environment, the hard work, I could learn to forget you. It was there that I was kidnapped by Ahmad and taken to his palace to be his wife. Compared to you, at least, Ahmad was honest with his desire. He never made any bones about the fact that he wanted to bed me."

Methos' face darkened in a scowl, hearing his worst fears confirmed straight from the younger Immortal's luscious lips. Still, with voice trembling, he asked, "And did he..."

"Yes!" the Scot hissed. "He bedded me not once, but several times!"

"But that was rape!"

"At first, it was, because I refused him. I was still smarting from the wounds you had inflicted upon my heart. Even though I knew I was harboring feelings for Ahmad, I couldn't bring myself to give my heart to another man. Ahmad tried to be gentle with me. I knew that he would never hurt me, not willfully, if I had acknowledged early on what I  
felt for him." The Highlander shook his head. "I caused my own pain."

"MacLeod, just listen to yourself!" the ancient insisted. "Can't you see that you're contradicting your own words? If Ahmad truly cares for you, he would never have forced himself upon you." Reluctantly, he added, "I've heard that he...shared...you with another desert chieftain. No matter what you say, you cannot justify the rapes that Ahmad had committed upon you."

"We're talking about honesty here, Old Man! As I said, that first time I met Ahmad, he never hid the fact that he desired me. Not like you. You had to deceive me, play with my heart TWICE. If only you had been honest with me right from the beginning..." The ferocity vanished from Duncan's face, to be replaced by regret and sorrow. "Who's to say I wouldn't have given you what you wanted. But it's too late now, is it?" The young Immortal shook his head, remembering something. "Oh, I forgot! My husband has ordered me to entertain you this evening, in gratitude for the services you have given him. You're finally going to get what you desire, Methos. A pity that you were not the first." Shrugging, Duncan remarked, "Well, I hope you won't mind settling for leftovers."

The limousine came to a halt at the curb right before Methos' flat. Without waiting for the chauffeur to open the door for him, the Highlander got out on his own, surprising the ancient with his sudden move.

As Methos got out of the car, he heard Duncan tell the chauffeur curtly, "You already have your instructions from the Sheikh. You are to come and fetch me tomorrow at 9 am." The Scot only waited for the driver to nod in reply, before going inside the apartment with the ancient right at his heels.

Silently, the two Immortals went up to the flat. Duncan stopped a few feet from the room, waiting as the ancient fumbled with his keys. As the door opened, the Highlander strode inside only to stop once more at the beautiful sight before him. A displeased frown creased his brow as he looked at the elder Immortal.

"You went to Saudi Arabia and left this unattended?" Duncan gestured to the huge lighted aquarium taking up a large corner of the flat. Inside it were a wide variety of goldfish and other small fishes.

"Of course not!" Methos said defensively. "I left instructions to my neighbor as to their feeding and care."

The Scot went towards the water tank to gaze sadly at the white and red Ryukin floating on top. "Don't you know that you stand to lose those you cherish if you leave them?"

Methos knew immediately whom the Highlander was referring to, and it was definitely not the dead fish.

Before he could say something, Duncan went up the small steps and retrieved the Ryukin with the fish net. Without looking at the older man, he asked, "Why don't you go take a shower, Methos? I'll wait for you here. I assure you I won't be going anywhere."

"But what about you? Wouldn't you want to take a bath?" The ancient still remembered that disgusting scene that greeted him in Ahmad's suite -- of the young Immortal's beautiful body being kissed and licked of its candy gems by a ravenous desert chieftain.

"I took a bath before going down to meet you in the lobby. Ahmad is a considerate man. He believes that you might be squeamish about bedding his third wife, especially when his husband's bodily fluids are still on his delectable flesh."

"Yes," Methos mumbled furiously. "How considerate of him." Going towards his bedroom door, he paused when the Highlander called out once more.

"Take your time, Methos," the Scot advised him. "I'm not in a hurry to do this, you know."

Methos wanted to answer back, but the retort remained lock in his throat as a mesmerizing scene unfolded before him.

Duncan had his face pressed to the glass, hands on either side of his head, smiling gently at the playful Calico oranda that was peering back at him. As the ancient looked on, the young Immortal and the little fish exchanged sweet kisses, the glass the only barrier between their mouths.

Oh how Methos wished that it were he whom the Highlander was kissing instead of that damned lucky oranda! But then again, they were going to make love later. No, the Old Man amended. It wouldn't be lovemaking. Just plain old sex.

The ancient gazed longingly at Duncan_. I know it's not too late. I'm not giving up on you, MacLeod. _Taking one last glance at that handsome, smiling face, Methos went inside his room, not only to bathe, but to figure out how he could steal the heart of the desert chieftain's third wife once more.

When Methos emerged from his bath a half hour later, more or less, he had a plan of action in mind. But when he went out of his room, dressed only in a black bathrobe, his scheme for a grand seduction flew from his mind as a most alluring sight greeted him. And to think he was the one planning a seduction!

Duncan was standing before his wide screen television, his lithe form under his dishdashah silhouetted by the flickering light of the TV. The Scot was staring enrapt at the images before him. Methos caught a glimpse of what had caught the young man's interest through the screen's reflection on the windowpane. It was a music video.

Raising the remote, the Highlander rewound the tape of the video on the Old Man's VHS machine and played it again. Methos recognized the opening strain immediately -- the dance tune "Whenever, Wherever" by Latin singing star Shakira. As the ancient quietly observed Ahmad's dashing third wife, a tantalizing smile formed on Duncan's face as he placed the remote down on the table, languidly swaying his body to the music as he did so. In stunned silence, Methos watched as the Highlander began to dance.

The ancient had no idea how long the Scot had been watching the Shakira video, but it must be long enough because Duncan was able to copy her graceful moves exactly, starting with those wavy arm motions as he slowly went down on one knee and rose again.

It was those hip movements that capture Methos' rapt attention. He never thought it possible for a man to move his hips as gracefully as a woman, but the Scot definitely would've given the Latin singer a run for her money. In the part before the refrain, Duncan jerked his hips right, forward and left, just as snappily as Shakira. With the sensual grace of a belly dancer or a Tahitian performer, he shook and wiggled his hips, the motion causing the sleeve of his dishdashah to slide down his right shoulder, partly baring his broad, alluring chest. At the part where the singer on the video had fallen into the mud, he sank down on his knees, arms supported behind him, his back arched to  
form a perfect bridge. That graceful motion caused the left sleeve to fall down his shoulder as well that his torso was revealed. Like a serpent, his trim abdomen undulated with sinuous ease. As he straightened his body, he extended his right leg to the side, and  
pushed himself up to a standing position, all the while swaying his hips seductively.

Soon, Duncan lost himself completely to the music, his eyes fluttering shut as he moved in the wild abandon of a desert whore. As he thrust his taut butt enticingly back, he let his left hand run through his glossy brown tresses while his right hand drifted down, pulling up his robe to bare a long leg and a shapely thigh. Clutching fistfuls of his hair, Duncan's fingertips fluttered down to his chest, his fingers eagerly pinching the nipples into tight little pebbles. His right hand dipped even lower to the pronounced bulge under his dishdashah.

Spinning on his toe, the Scot came to a dead halt to stare at the aquarium. A delighted laugh escaped Duncan's lips as he skipped towards the water tank, where his favorite Calico and a small school of baby fantails and gourami were avidly watching him.

"Did you like that little ones?" the Highlander asked, tapping gently on the glass and sending the tiny fish swimming into the corals.

The Calico bubbled its assent. It was about to move closer to the glass, but a Black Moor butted it away. The black goldfish faced Duncan, its tail swishing playfully as though mimicking the Immortal's graceful hips.

"Now that wasn't nice! You're a lewd one, aren't you?" Duncan wagged a scolding finger before its round dark eyes. He made to kiss the glass, the Black Moor approaching eagerly as well. But the Calico reappeared and chased the mischievous ebony fish away, but not before pressing its mouth to the glass, meeting the Scot's lips.

Taking a deep breath, the Highlander sauntered over to the refrigerator, fanning his sweaty face with his hand. "Damn! It's so hot! I sure hope the old guy hasn't forgotten to stock his fridge with beer."

As he pulled the door open to peek inside the fridge, Duncan did not sense the quiet approach behind him of the ancient, who shrugged off his robe. Just as he was reaching for a can of beer, Methos reached in as well and snatched the younger man's target. Duncan gasped as a strong arm enveloped his waist. He shivered, feeling chilled metal  
press against the side of his face.

"Is that cold enough for you?" Methos muttered in his ear. When the Scot did not reply, he mumbled, "Hmmm...I guess not."

Before Duncan could break free, the Old Man suddenly pushed him forward, that he had to brace himself on the doors of the fridge and freezer with both hands before his body could slam into the appliance. Shocked by the sudden move, he just found himself effectively trapped between the fridge and Methos' heated flesh.

The ancient raised the cold beer can again, letting it slide over the Scot's right cheek and rolled it down the curve of neck and shoulder. Meanwhile, his left hand tugged the dishdashah free by untying the sash at the waist. The robe fell in a pool at the young Immortal's feet.

Duncan's head lolled back against Methos' shoulder, moaning, as the chilly beer can pressed against his hardened nubs, drawing them up to greater tautness. That delicious sound only encouraged the Old Man's desire to touch and play with the Highlander's sensitive tits himself. Acting on that impulse, Methos' hand tightened around the can and  
crushed it, causing the top to burst open, spilling its frigid contents all over the Scot's naked body.

Spinning Duncan around, Methos began to lick the golden, sudsy brew from his lover's equally gold-toned flesh. He lingered on the broad chest, lapping an inward spiral trail. As his lips nipped on a taut tit, sucking that sweet nipple into his mouth, the ancient felt himself enveloped by trembling hands, pulling him close. Methos was only happy to oblige the young man's need. Eagerly, he suckled on Duncan's nipples, relishing the taste of beer and salty sweet skin. Although a deep instinct inside him longed to continue with this pleasurable infantile pursuit, he knew that he could satisfy this urge in another, much lower region of the Scot's anatomy.

Without any further delay, Methos slowly sank to his knees, his hands caressing Duncan's sweat-slicked sides with his descent. For a brief second, he poked his tongue in the tiny hollow of the younger Immortal's belly. But then, his green gold eyes focused on that impressive erection between the Highlander's legs. Like an eagle sighting its prey, the ancient swooped down, taking Duncan's cock down to the root in one long, smooth swallow.

Brown doe eyes flew wide, a strangled cry wrenched from the Scot's throat as he came in an instant. Horrified by his body's immediate response, he shoved Methos away. Still, the Old Man was able to imbibe some of his lover's seed. Even freed from that fiendish mouth, Duncan's member continued to gush out its fluid. His knees weak, the young Immortal stumbled away from the ancient. But his legs buckled beneath him that he fell on the steps near the water tank.

Suddenly, strong hands pushed him up and forward, his body hitting the glass wall of the aquarium. Eager fingers yanked down his bracelets and firm hands closed around his wrists, pinning them above his head. With Methos' left hand holding him captive, the ancient's right descended to the curve of his ass, shaking, sweaty palms cupping each  
firm buttock.

A choked sob was elicited from Duncan's lips, a tear trickling from the corner of his right eye, as an inquisitive finger squeezed through the crevice to probe the rosebud that lay hidden within him.

"Please," Duncan begged the older man. "Don't hurt me!"

Methos' answer was to pull his hand back, but it was a temporary respite. The Scot heard the soft sounds of the Old Man's spitting copiously into his palm. Again, that finger, now slick with saliva, dipped into that luscious chasm, wetting that tiny opening. This was followed by another brief period of relief as Methos' wet his own aching erection.

As he positioned his cock along that crease, the ancient felt the body in his arms tremble. For the first time, Methos pressed his lips to the corner of Duncan's mouth in a tender kiss.

"I know I broke your heart, Duncan," Methos whispered in the young man's ear. "But just this once, could you not trust me? I swear I won't hurt you. Duncan, please! I beg you to trust me!"

Despite his fears, something in the Old Man's voice touched the Highlander's troubled soul. Even if his mind harbored doubts, his soul was telling him -- no, had convinced him -- that Methos was sincere. Before he realized he was doing so, Duncan took a deep breath to calm his nerves and nodded.

In the next crucial minutes, Methos made good on his promise. Duncan hardly felt the penetration. Such was the care that the Old Man took in sheathing his rod into that cavern of desire. The Highlander only knew of its passage by the luscious stretching of his channel and the feel of a hefty scrotum and soft curls against his buttocks. When Methos pulled back and thrust inside him once more, Duncan's entire being was flooded with such intense bliss that he cried out his pleasure. He knew he wanted more of this exquisite torment.

Gingerly, Duncan reached for Methos' hands that were positioned on either side of his head. Feeling that tentative touch, the ancient clasped his lover's hands in his warm grasp, his fingers brushing against the Scot's gold wristbands and the stallion ring, symbols of  
Ahmad's claim over the young Immortal in his arms. But for now, at this very instant, Duncan was his.

The two men moved as one, their bodies bucking with every thrust. As his chest touched the aquarium, the Scot felt a delicious tingling as his nipples touched the smooth surface. With graceful undulations, he alternately pushed his ass against Methos' cock and scraped his sensitive tits against the glass.

There was a soft chuckle from his ancient lover behind him. "Kinky little buggers!" Methos muttered huskily.

Duncan opened lust-heavy eyes and glanced down, smiling at the sight before him.

The Calico oranda and the Black Moor were swimming forward and back, their round mouths nipping at the tiny tits that kissed the glass. When he thrust his chest against the glass, the goldfish moved forward as well, meeting it with their mouths. To Duncan, it looked like those naughty fish were feeding on him.

These sweet goldfish, Methos' tender ministrations -- it was enough to bring the Highlander over the edge.

Duncan's hands tightened around the ancient's, his head falling backward as he let out an ecstatic cry. Methos' own scream of pleasure joined his, the older Immortal's seed gushing into his inner depths. Seconds after, the Scot came as well, the spurt of his essence splattering the glass of the aquarium, startling the two goldfish that they swam away.

Weary, the two Immortals sank, arm in arm, to the steps.

Embracing his lover, Methos kissed Duncan on the crown of his head. "Looks like we scared them away," he mused, only to find the Calico and the Black Moor staring at them once more, their bulbous faces pressed to the glass. Shaking his head, he added, "I guess not."

Then, he felt something warm and wet fall on his arm. Looking down, Methos saw that the Highlander was weeping. He didn't even have to guess the reason for those tears.

Holding his beloved close, Methos whispered, "Please don't cry, Duncan! I know how much you love Ahmad. After this, I won't press my attentions upon you again. I will not be the cause of any more pain to you."

"Don't say anything more, Methos! Please!" Duncan begged him, his body hitching with his sobs. "Just hold me! Please hold me!"

It was a simple thing that the Scot asked of him. All night, he kept cradled the younger man in the heat of his embrace, giving Duncan his love and comfort. As a tear streamed from his eye as well, Methos inwardly lamented the loss of this most precious Highland jewel.  
&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;  
&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;

At exactly 9 am the following day, the limousine arrived on the dot to pick up Duncan MacLeod. Dressed once more in his dishdashah, this time with a veil covering his face, the Scot emerged from the apartment, carrying a cloth-covered rectangular case. He entered the limousine without looking back. If he had, he would've seen the solemn figure of Methos watching him from the window.

All this, Inspector LeBrun witnessed with his own eyes as he stood on the opposite side of the street beside his car. Taking a puff from his cigarette, he shook his head in dismay.

"You're playing a dangerous game, MacLeod," LeBrun muttered under his breath. "A very dangerous game."

 

A few hours later, Duncan lay on his husband's bed, having just engaged in passionate lovemaking with Ahmad.

The desert chieftain draped a proprietary arm around his wife's waist. "For awhile there, I thought I would not be able to perform."

The Scot frowned at that curious comment. "Why not? Ahmad! Surely you're not suffering from some form of..."

"Of course not!" Ahmad declared, shocked that Duncan would even suggest that he might be impotent. "It's just that...Well, I'm used to being a watcher, not being watched at."

"But, Ahmad, it's just the two of us in this suite."

The Sheikh pointed to the dresser where the Highlander had placed the small aquarium that Methos had given him. As Ahmad had said, the naughty Calico and Black Moor were staring intently at them.

Duncan laughed as he turned over on his back and flung his arms around Ahmad's neck. "Now you know how I feel whenever you get it into your head to watch while others made love to me."

Hearing that last, the desert chieftain suddenly became serious. "But I wasn't with you last night. Adam...did he treat you well? Forgive me, my love. It was wrong of me to order you to do this. Last night, I feared that he might be like Abdullah El Sibae."

"No, my husband. Adam is not like Abdullah. He was very gentle with me. In fact, he even gave me those sweet goldfish as a token of his gratitude."

"I'm glad that I did not make a mistake in judging his character. Adam is a good man, well-loved and respected by my subjects." With great hesitation, Ahmad began, "Duncan, it shames me to ask this of you, but...Adam...I owe him greatly for the services he had given me and my people."

"You know that I will obey your every command, Ahmad. Your debt to Adam is also my debt." Duncan kissed the desert chieftain in reassurance. "It would be an honor for me to give him pleasure."

Ahmad breathed a relieved sigh as he embraced his wife. "Oh, Duncan! You don't know how pleased I am with your answer! I swear I shall make this up to you!"

Unknown to the desert chieftain, there was a glorious smile on Duncan's lips, love light twinkling in his lovely doe eyes. He stole a glance at the two goldfish. To him, it seemed the Calico and the Black Moor were smiling at him as well. Inside his heart, Duncan was eagerly anticipating to be reunited with the ancient Immortal again.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Please read Mary T. Ewing's "[Desert Interlude](http://www.mtewing.com)" before proceeding.

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Beni Ibn Al Ahmad was sitting comfortably in his armchair. His calm exterior, however, belied the tumult that was raging inside his soul. Yes, in part, he was anxiously awaiting the...exotic...presentation that his three wives had prepared for him and his guest. But the TRUE show he was anticipating was the reaction he was expecting to see in the man at his side.

The night that Dr. Adam Pierson had barged right in the middle of his tempestuous lovemaking with the Highlander, Ahmad knew instantly there was something wrong. The shock on Adam's and Duncan's faces, the look in their eyes, that...strange name...the Scot had called the professor... One didn't need to have the intellect of a genius to figure out that the two men knew each other.

Stealing a glance at Adam, Ahmad saw that the university professor was sitting stiffly in his seat, his green gold eyes riveted to the blindfolded, naked figure tied to the bed. His handsome face mirrored his concern for the desert chieftain's third wife.

Probably noticing his furtive stare, Adam leaned toward him and whispered, "I don't think this show for my benefit is necessary. Duncan...your wife..."

"Will not come to any harm," Ahmad reassured him, not at all pleased that his tribe's historian had dared to show his interest in the Highlander, much more actually voice out his dissent. "Duncan is...learned...in the erotic arts, as you have probably noticed during the nights that I sent him to you. Why do you ask, Adam? Does this bother you?"

Adam didn't reply. Instead, he settled back into his chair, not at all reassured by the words of the sheik, obviously aware of the Scot's inexperience in matters carnal. Especially carnal matters between men.

_I think you'll be very surprised, Adam,_ thought Ahmad in sly amusement. _Once you see what a wanton in bed __Duncan__ becomes, you might lose all interest in him. Better that you know now that he is my wife and that you could never have him._

At that moment, from the other suite, Nagat and Inanna made their entrance. Like the seemingly helpless Highlander, both women were naked, except for the huge artificial phalluses that were strapped to their groins.

Grabbing a handful of those brown tresses, Nagat inquired, "What do you think of our prisoner, my lord?" She yanked Duncan's head up for both men to see his flushed face. "Is he not beautiful?"

"We are not selfish, my lord," Inanna purred enticingly, laying her knee on the bed. Her right hand caressed the Scot's oil-sheened skin. "If you wish, we'll let you and your guest have him first. After all, you are our Master."

Ahmad shook his head. "Not this time, my desert blossoms. I give you the privilege of deflowering him, but please don't wear him out. My...friend...and I would like a turn when you're done."

The two women bowed graciously to their husband. As one, they bent down upon that bound, luscious body, tormenting every inch with their lips and tongues. Like greedy succubi, Inanna and Nagat teased the sensitive parts of the Highlander's anatomy -- his lips, the pulsing artery at his neck, the mounds of his firm chest, his navel, down to the region of his crotch. Yet, they withdrew before they came in contact with those zones that would bring intense pleasure.

As if it were scripted, Duncan pleaded with trembling voice, "No! Please don't do this to me!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Ahmad saw Adam flinch when Nagat struck the Scot in the face.

"If you value your life, whore," the first wife hissed, "keep silent! You are here for our pleasure, and we will not hear any more arguments from you!"

Duncan was about to speak again, but Inanna plundered his full lips with her mouth, tongue delving within. Tears began to pour from underneath the blindfold, drawing a salty streak leading to his ear.

When the women stood up, the Highlander heaved a sigh of relief, but it was a temporary respite. Inanna only loosened the ties at the bedpost. With a strength that belied her seemingly frail form, Nagat gripped the young man's ankles and yanked him down to the edge of the bed, so that Duncan had to brace himself with his legs lest he fall off. As Inanna secured the bonds once more, this left the Scot in a most vulnerable position -- with his arms stretched above his head, his long legs bent at the knees, the tips of his toes touching the bed's edge. With his legs spread wide, his inexperienced rosebud awaited the invasion that was soon to follow. With the Highlander thus positioned, Nagat and Inanna took their appointed places -- with the younger above Duncan's head and the elder between his thighs.

Duncan's gasp of surprise was taken into the velvet moisture of Inanna's mouth when Nagat tormented his shaven groin with her teasing tongue. Tilting his head back, he returned Inanna's kisses just as passionately, while he spread his legs even wider to accommodate Nagat's exploring mouth. When they stopped their lingual ministrations, he voiced out his dismay and need with a whimper.

A taut nipple upon the pillows of his lips rewarded that longing cry. When a slick furnace engulfed his aching manhood to the root, Inanna's ample breasts upon his face smothered the Scot's howl of pleasure. Just as Ahmad's senior wife milked him of his manly juices, Duncan eagerly suckled from Inanna's teats. He would've indulged in this infantile need forever. But the tiny blossom between his thighs was demanding attention as well.

Hearing the gasps of need from the sheik's third wife, Nagat was only too happy to oblige. With a quick nod to Inanna, they readied themselves for the final scene in the first act of this sensuous play.

In one smooth, graceful motion, Inanna lowered her moist vulva to Duncan's face, at the same grasping his erection with both her hands and taking the shaft inside her mouth. That very instant, Nagat thrust her oiled phallus inside the Scot's ass.

Ahmad smiled, hearing the startled gasp of realization from the man beside him. Although at first glace, the phallus seemed to be attached to the harness at Nagat's waist, at closer inspection, the member itself was projecting from within the nether region of the  
first wife. As she was fucking Duncan, she too was being fucked by him.

With the relentless onslaught of these sensual stimuli, the Highlander soon went into overload. His muffled cries sent vibrations shooting up into Inanna's vagina, tickling her clitoris, while he emptied his seed inside her mouth. Nagat was in the throes of an  
explosive orgasm as she pounded again and again into Duncan, while the other end of the phallus deep within her stimulated her womanly parts to clench and unclench convulsively around its rubber shaft.

Spent, the two women collapsed on top of the Scot's glistening flesh. Duncan himself was panting for breath.

Ahmad's soft but firm voice reached their hearing. "Is it over so soon, my beauties?"

It was Inanna who replied. "No, my lord. I have yet to have a turn with him. With your permission..."

The desert chieftain waved his hand to the young man who still lay bound to the bed. He saw Adam look at him, eyes drawn by that gesture.

"What does our little pet say?" he asked, the question intended for his third wife.

Although dismay crossed Adam's features, Ahmad beamed at the Highlander's answer.

"Do to me what you will," Duncan said. "I belong to you."

 

Despite his mind's protestations and desperate urging to put a stop to this, Methos' eyes remained transfixed upon the erotic tableaux before him.

There was something surreal about this play being acted out before him. Years back, it was inconceivable for the ancient to see the stalwart Scot in the sexually subservient position he was in now. Despite her penchant for carnal ingenuity, Amanda would never have dared to use Duncan in the manner that Nagat and Inanna were doing -- his luscious body a feast for their suppressed desires. What they were not able to do with their husband because of their lowly position, they did to Duncan. With the beautiful Highlander in the position of the female, the two wives seized the opportunity to plunder his flesh like ravenous males.

As Inanna thrust the artificial phallus into Duncan's channel again and again, guilt rose inside Methos' heart, causing him to look away.

_Is this my doing?_ the ancient thought in despair. _If I hadn't left __Duncan__, would all these have been prevented? Am I responsible for his moral decay?_

A soft voice intruded into his troubled musings. "Was the presentation of my wives not to your liking, Adam?"

Methos turned toward the bed, where Nagat and Inanna were loosening the Scot's bonds. The younger wife had removed the blindfold and was wiping Duncan's tear-filled eyes with the silk cloth.

"It would disappoint me if they were not successful in pleasing you," Ahmad continued, a meaningful smile on his face.

"In truth, my lord," Methos chose his words carefully. "I found it most...stimulating."

All three wives stood up and bowed graciously to their husband, with the Scot rubbing his chafed wrists. With a wave of dismissal from Ahmad, they returned to the adjoining suite. Before entering the room, however, Duncan suddenly stopped and closed the door behind Inanna and Nagat. With languid steps, he returned to the bed, his whole body leaning against the bedpost. He wrapped his arm around the post, the gold band at his wrist gleaming as he caressed the carved wood up and down with his hand.

"Why are you still here, my pet?" Ahmad inquired, surprised by the audacity of his third wife to go against his wishes.

But then, a timid, yet devastating smile formed on Duncan's lips. Teasingly, he pressed his left index finger to his mouth, tongue snaking out to lick the length. How could the desert chieftain bring himself to punish such a sweet, alluring creature?

"I thought you were going to have a turn, my lord," the Highlander reminded his husband. Looking first at Ahmad and then at Methos, Duncan's left hand flew down to his chest to fondle a still hard nipple. "Don't you want me, my husband? You and your guest?" Grinning, he shyly admitted, "As much as I enjoyed it with Nagat and Inanna, I desire the real thing." With a slight nod in the direction of the aquarium, he added, "And my wee friends know how I feel."

The two men gazed at the aquarium. Sure enough, the Calico and the Black Moor's faces were pressed to the glass, telescope eyes mirroring their anticipation of another luscious plundering of their young master's beautiful body.

Methos glared at the two goldfish, regretting giving those lascivious creatures to the younger Immortal.

Then, Duncan sauntered over to them. Falling to his knees before his husband, he proceeded to pull down the zipper of a surprised Ahmad's trousers, freeing that ebony cock. Taking it reverently with both hands, he licked the hard, massive length, the tip of his tongue poking the tiny opening of that sensitive head, shooting waves of pleasure all over the sheik's body. Before he could engulf the desert chieftain's man root, strong hands pulled him up that he was sitting on Ahmad's lap, his legs straddling those dusky thighs.

"Ahmad..." Duncan began, as his husband gripped both their cocks in his large hand.

Nudging the Scot to thrust his shapely buttocks backward, Ahmad whispered, "No, my pet. I have not forgotten our guest." Looking at the startled man beside him, he said, "Adam?"

At first, Methos was too stunned to move. But then, expectantly, the Highlander turned and gazed longingly into his hazel eyes. Although his conscience cried out against it, he rose to his knees, removing the buttons of his pants as he did so and letting them fall to the floor.

Standing behind the Scot with his cock poised at that bruised opening, Methos' wrists were grasped by the desert chieftain and pulled around their lover's body.

Placing the ancient's trembling hands over Duncan's chest, Ahmad bade him, "Offer him to me, Adam. His sweet nipples have always given me great delight."

Swallowing hard, Methos knew what was desired of him. Taking a firm mound between his fingers, he squeezed the flesh around the areola hard, causing the tit to jut out even more. As he pushed the younger man's nipple toward Ahmad's waiting mouth, the ancient sheathed his burgeoning erection into the Highlander's rosebud. Duncan screamed his pleasure when the head of Methos' cock pounded his pleasure zone, at the same time that Ahmad engulfed his nipple and proceeded to suckle upon it like a greedy infant.

The beautiful Scot was at the mercy of the two men. As Methos thrust erratically into his ass, his hips were pushed forward as well, that his cock scraped along the length of Ahmad's member. The desert chieftain himself was pumping them relentlessly in his large hand. One by one, his nipples were given such exquisite torment by his husband's fiendish lips and tongue. With sheer force of will, Duncan tried to prolong the ecstasy, giving the whole of his being to his two lovers while they took every pleasure they could from his sweat-slickened flesh. Already, his head was lolled back, tears streaming from his eyes, his gasps turning into hoarse cries of need.

Then, two bliss-filled voices joined his screams of pleasure. His beautiful doe eyes opening wide, Duncan smiled, feeling Ahmad spurt his juices upon his belly. Soon, Methos followed, filling him again and again with his seed. Unable to hold on any longer, with a sigh, he released his own load, coating his husband's belly.

His fingers trembling, Duncan sought out the hands of his two lovers. Kissing their fingertips, he whispered, "Thank you. Thank you!"

"Duncan..." Methos was shocked to hear those grateful words from the younger Immortal's lips. He wanted so much to kiss him, to tell him that it was not his intention to use him like this. But he knew he had no right to do so, certainly not in front of the desert chieftain he called 'husband'.

The ancient gazed in envy as Ahmad kissed the Highlander's flushed lips. "Ah, my pet! You have given us great pleasure this evening!"

"But the night is still young, my lord," Duncan said with enthusiasm. "Surely we could still..." With lust-filled eyes, he added, "If your guest wouldn't mind..."

Slender lips brushed against the Scot's nape. "I don't mind at all. If Ahmad wouldn't..."

Despite his apprehensions over his historian, the sheik was still very much aroused by the beguiling beauty of his third wife to say 'no'.

"No," Ahmad found himself saying. "I don't mind at all."

 

The wee hours of the morning saw Beni Ibn Al Ahmad still awake in his bed. He was gazing at the lovely face of the sleeping Highlander. There was a time when pain was reflected on that face, even during sleep's repose. Ahmad didn't want to remember it, knowing that he was the cause of Duncan's psychological injuries years back. Up to now,  
it still amazed him how the Scot had forgiven him and even admitted that he had learned to love his desert captor, so much so that he agreed to be his wife.

Probably sensing his distress, Duncan's left arm that Ahmad's head was laid upon pulled him closer that the younger man's brow touched his own forehead. Seeing those lips so close to his own, the sheik wanted so much to kiss him.

But then, there was a soft noise, a heart-rending moan from the man whose naked body was spooned against the Highlander's back. As Ahmad looked on in astonishment, Duncan reached down with his right hand and grasped Adam's hand that lay on his bare hip. To his even greater surprise, a small smile curled up the corners of those full lips.

Ahmad stared darkly at those clasped hands, seeing his fears confirmed. Despite his earlier decision to allow the Scot to stay in the west, now he was not so sure. He hadn't told the Highlander the real reason for his visit. Now, with Duncan's affections for Adam so obvious, Ahmad was determined to push through with his original plan -- to bring Duncan back to the desert kingdom with him.

 

LeBrun peered up from the newspaper he was reading to see a very happy Duncan MacLeod running down the stairs of the Main Lobby dressed in a beautiful blue dishdashah. Walking casually behind him, both with wistful smiles on their faces were the desert chieftain and his young historian, Dr. Adam Pierson. For a moment, the inspector noted the looks the two men accorded each other. Although the smiles on their lips were congenial, their eyes spoke differently -- sharp, reeking of undisguised envy and jealousy.

Oblivious to the tension between his husband and his lover, Duncan skipped back up to them and took both their hands. "Would you two hurry up?" he said excitedly. "I'd really like to take you both on a boat ride in my barge along the Seine." He focused loving eyes on the sheik. "You promised me this, Ahmad. Please don't change your mind now. You and Adam. Let me show you the sights of Paris."

LeBrun frowned, seeing Ahmad give his beloved third wife a possessive embrace, something that Adam was having difficulty in ignoring. With a nod, he allowed the happy Scot to lead him and the unhappy university professor out of the hotel.

The inspector shook his head. "Oh, MacLeod, MacLeod! This is truly a dangerous game you're playing! I only hope that I could have a chance to talk to you about this. You cannot give your heart to two men like this."

Finishing his coffee, LeBrun left a couple of franc notes on his tray and followed after the three men. So focused was he on the Highlander that the inspector had not noticed that someone else was looking at Duncan MacLeod just as intensely.

The man was seated at the farthest table so that neither of the two Immortals could sense his presence. Waving to the waitress, he inquired, "That young man in the lovely desert robe... Who is he? He looks very familiar to me."

"I am told that he is the...third...wife of one of our visiting Arab dignitaries, Beni Ibn Al Ahmad," the waitress replied. "I've heard that his name is Duncan. Yes, Duncan. Duncan MacLeod."

Handing a generous sum to the delighted young woman, the Immortal waved her away. An evil smile formed on his lips, remembering that name from a very distant past, over four hundred years ago.

"Oh, Duncan, my sweet Duncan!" he mused with a wicked chuckle, not even bothering to hide the delight on his face. "You've grown into such a beauty!"


	6. Chapter 6

Please read Mary T. Ewing's "[Desert Interlude](http://www.mtewing.com)" before proceeding.

 

**CHAPTER SIX**

 

A sweaty hand reached up to grasp the headboard. Another hand joined it, as Duncan boosted himself up, his scrumptious ass raised alluringly to his ancient lover behind him. A moan was elicited from his lips as Methos parted his buttocks so that he could dip his  
tongue into the puckered opening.

The ancient could feel the minute jerks of his lover's ass upon his face, begging him to delve deeper. Duncan's right hand had descended between his legs to grip his erection.

"Methos, please!" he begged huskily, stroking his shaft. "Don't torment me like this. Fuck me now! Please!"

There was a moment's pause, and Methos heard the Highlander groan in frustration. Rather than give in to what he desired, he withdrew and sat on the far end of his bed.

Sighing, Duncan crawled on his hands and knees toward the ancient. As he embraced the older man, the Scot deliberately undulated his body so that the hard pebbles of his chest and his aching cock brushed against Methos' back.

"Come lie down, Methos," Duncan whispered invitingly, nibbling on an earlobe. "Let me give you pleasure."

Suddenly, Methos turned around to face him, the Old Man's fingers tightening on his upper arms.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" the ancient cried desperately, at last finding voice to his frustrations of the past five days.

Duncan frowned at that sudden outburst. "What do you mean?"

"This!" Methos tugged on the tie of the sheer robe that the Scot was wearing. "And this!" He gestured helplessly to the younger man's completely shaven form. "This is not who you are!"

"This is who I am now."

"And what is that exactly -- a whore of a desert chieftain?"

"I am the third wife of Beni Ibn Al Ahmad."

"If he considers you his 'wife', he would never share you with other men. I know that I would never allow that you be degraded like this."

"My world is different than yours, Methos. You know that. And I too have changed. I've learned to accept my seemingly low station, even if it is not."

"I'm to blame for what happened to you. If I hadn't left you, if I hadn't been such a coward..." Methos said with deep regret. He pulled the Highlander into his fierce embrace. "But it's not too late. Come with me, Duncan. I'll take you to a place far away where Ahmad could never find us."

"Are you asking me to leave my husband, to break my vows to him?" Duncan asked aghast. "You know I could never do that."

"Damn your sense of honor, Duncan MacLeod! I demand an answer from your heart!" The ancient looked firmly into the young Immortal's eyes. "I love you and I'll do everything in my power to free you from your vows. Just say the word."

"No, I won't!" the Scot stubbornly retorted.

"Why not? Are you saying that you don't love me?"

"That's just it! I DO love you, but...but..."

"But what?"

Duncan lowered his eyes for a moment. When he gazed into his lover's hazel orbs, tears trickled from his pretty doe eyes. "Because I love him too. I couldn't leave him, not ever. I won't break Ahmad's heart."

"What about my heart? Do you have any idea what you do to me whenever I see you and him..."

"Then look away. It's that simple."

"No, Duncan. It is not that simple. I cannot bear to see him flaunt his ownership of you."

The Highlander got to his feet and demanded, "What the hell do you want from me, Methos?"

Methos stood up as well. "I want you to choose -- him or me!"

"You know damned well I can't do that! Methos, there's still a chance for us! Ahmad is mortal. Can't you permit me a mortal's lifetime to stay with him? Since you are his friend, I know that Ahmad would be generous enough to share me with you."

"But sooner or later, you'll have to make a choice. You can't be swimming between two rivers."

Duncan gritted his teeth. "What if I don't want to choose?"

"You can't have it both ways, Duncan," the ancient insisted. "Haven't you even wondered what could happen to you once Ahmad learns the truth about us? And he will. In fact, I think he already suspects that there is something going on between us."

The Highlander went toward the window to gaze into the street below.

Methos knew what his lover had seen -- the limousine parked outside the apartment building with Jai standing beside it.

Biting his lower lip, Duncan muttered, "I'll cross that bridge when I get to it."

"I won't let you make that crossing alone. What if he hurts you again?"

"Ahmad is my husband, Methos," Duncan reminded him. "After the things that had happened to us, he would never do anything to hurt me. Besides, he himself knows that it was he who encouraged this right from the start." Shaking his head, he strongly stated, "No, Methos. I and I alone shall face Ahmad."

 

Trouble greeted the Highlander when he reached the floor of their suites.

"Nagat! Inanna! What are you doing out here?" Duncan exclaimed, seeing the two senior wives standing in the hallway. "Is something the matter?"

"We came to warn you," Inanna said breathlessly. "Our husband is waiting for you inside. He is...angry."

'Why should Ahmad be angry? I've done nothing wrong."

It was Nagat who spoke up. "I have no doubt of your fidelity toward our husband. You are a man of honor. But you must convince him of that fact." In hushed tones, the first wife added, "Duncan, he knows about you and Dr. Adam Pierson."

"He only sees what's on the surface, but he does not know everything. Ahmad doesn't know what is inside my heart."

"And what about you?" Inanna asked in turn. "Do you know who your heart longs for?"

Nagat took Duncan's hands and squeezed them gently. "Please be very careful, Duncan. Ahmad is a kind man, but he could be...unreasonable...when he's jealous. Inanna and I do not wish to see you harmed."

The Scot granted the senior wives a reassuring smile. "I'll be all right. Now, please leave us. Just in case, I do not want his ire turned upon you."

Surprisingly, the two women gave him a kiss on each cheek.

"Do not forget, Duncan, that Nagat and I are on your side. May Allah watch over you!" Inanna whispered in his ear.

At these words, the senior wives of the desert chieftain entered their suite.

Going toward the main chamber, Duncan paused for a moment, steeling himself for the uncomfortable confrontation ahead of him. Taking a deep breath, he went inside the suite.

Ahmad was indeed waiting for him, seated on the divan in the small parlor, dressed in a black thoub. To Duncan, the Arab moor looked menacing in his attire that he was suddenly seized by a sense of foreboding.

Still, the Highlander managed to offer a greeting and a bow. "Good day to you, my husband."

"How was your evening with Dr. Pierson?" Ahmad inquired with a smile.  
Not 'Adam', as he used to call the ancient Immortal. Things certainly did not look good.

"Well, I hope," Duncan casually remarked. "I did what you asked me to. Adam is a man of depth. It's hard to say whether I have pleased him or not."

"Adam is indeed a man of few words, but anyone could see how enamored he is of you."

"I think you yourself are aware of the...appeal...that draws both women and men to me. You've seen how it nearly ruined me."

"Yes. I know what had happened to you as a child. I also know the devastating effect you had on me when I first saw you in Al Badi. Just gazing at your beauty alone stirs an insatiable ache in my loins." Then, the desert chieftain's voice assumed a lower, more  
sinister tone. "But sometimes I wonder if you are not deliberately using your allure to seduce those you are attracted to."

Duncan looked sharply at the sheik. "What are you implying, Ahmad? I do not need seduction when it gets me raped in the end. Isn't that what you and your old friend, Abdullah al Sibae, did to me, my husband? Now, you have pushed me in this direction you find most detestable. After Dr. Pierson, are there other men you owe a debt to?  
Whom else should I offer my body to in exchange for the services that they had given you and your people?"

In the blink of an eye, Ahmad rushed to his feet and slapped Duncan fiercely in the face before the Highlander could react. The force of the blow sent the Scot sprawling to the floor. A hard hand gripped a fistful of Duncan's long brown hair, pulling his head up.

"You dare to pass the blame on me?" Ahmad hissed in his ear.

"Unhand me this instant, Ahmad!" Duncan answered just as strongly. "I've never laid a hand on you before, even when you had abused me. Do not force me to do so now!"

The sheik whirled the Scot around to face him, painfully pulling out several strands of hair in the process. "I want the truth now, Duncan! How long have you known Adam? Before we met, was he your lover?"

"Adam is...a friend. We never became lovers."

"But you regret that you hadn't. Don't lie to me! I see it in your eyes. Your eyes could never hide what is inside your heart."

"Yes, I wished that we had become more than friends, but before we could go any further with our relationship, Adam left me, not once but twice. He broke my heart."

"And yet you go to him so willingly. Have the both of you discovered what you failed to have from the beginning?"

"You forced us into this!"

"Did I force you? When I asked, I was expecting you to say no. But I didn't hear any arguments from you. You went with him immediately. If you were the man I met two years ago, you would have howled and screamed at me before you would perform this kind of service. Yet you obeyed me instantly when it was Pierson. Tell me why, Duncan. Are you in love with Adam?"

"Ahmad, I..."

"TELL ME THE TRUTH, DAMN YOU!"

Duncan burst into tears as he shouted, "YES, I LOVE HIM! EVEN IF HE HAD BROKEN MY HEART, I LOVE ADAM!"

Hearing those words tore at Ahmad's soul. Sitting back, the stunned sheik mumbled, "You've been unfaithful to me. How could you have betrayed me like this?"

The Scot inched closer toward the distraught Arab moor. "Ahmad, please listen to me. I never betrayed you. True, I sleep with Adam, but it is because you requested it of me. If I had wanted to be unfaithful to you, I would have done so in the two years that we've been apart. Ahmad, please..."

Suddenly, the furious desert chieftain pushed him back and shoved him to his knees. Duncan felt his robe torn at the shoulder and callused fingers painfully twist and pinch his nipples. His clothing was yanked up to his waist, a hand forcing its way in the crevice between his buttocks.

"You're mine, Duncan MacLeod! My wife!" Ahmad muttered, his voice strained with anger. "I shall take you again and again, mark you as my own, so that you would know who you belong to."

"Are you going to rape me again, Ahmad?" Duncan asked in turn, tears streaming from his eyes. "Then do it! Rape me now! Believe me, this is the easiest way for you to lose the deep love that I hold for you. Go ahead, husband! Have your way with my body! But if you do so, you shall earn my hatred for all eternity!"

Despite his strong words, the Highlander gasped as three blunt fingers suddenly forced their way into his channel. Just as abruptly, the hand withdrew. Then, Ahmad let out an agonized scream behind him followed by a loud crash. Turning, Duncan saw the sheik kneeling amongst the shattered remains of the aquarium, holding his hand with a glass shard embedded in the palm. Flopping on the carpet were his beloved Calico oranda and the Black Moor.

At that moment, Nagat, Inanna and Jai burst through the side door, shocked by what they beheld. Gently picking up his goldfish, he handed them over to a startled Inanna.

"Please, Inanna!" was all Duncan could say.

Nodding, the second wife hurried into their suite with the fish in tow. Nagat and Jai looked at the Highlander, at a loss on what to do.

"Please leave us, Nagat, Jai," Duncan told them softly. "This matter is between me and my husband."

Despite their apprehensions, the senior wife and the eunuch did as the Scot requested, closing the door behind them with a soft click.

Kneeling before his husband, Duncan quietly reached out to take Ahmad's hand. But the desert chieftain jerked it away.

"Don't touch me!" Ahmad hissed in pain and suppressed fury. "You would aid his gifts to you and not me!"

"They are innocent creatures, Ahmad. They have nothing to do with our quarrel." With gentle insistence, Duncan took his husband's tense hand in his grasp. Carefully, he pried the glass shard from Ahmad's palm. Tearing a strip from his robe, he wrapped up the wound. "You need stitches. Let me call the doctor."

Before he could stand, the sheik grabbed his wrist and urged him back down. Duncan was stunned by the anguish he saw in those ebony eyes, and it grieved him so to have caused this great man such heartbreak.

"Why, Duncan?" Ahmad sobbed like a broken child, a tear streaming from his eye. "How could you do this to me?"

Duncan pressed his husband's bloody palm to his cheek. "Ahmad, the last thing I wanted to do is to hurt you. Please believe me. If you want the whole truth, then I will tell you everything. Let's discuss this in a calm, rational manner. Please, Ahmad."

In spite of his desire to punish his third wife for his supposed infidelity, Ahmad surrendered to that entreaty. After the hotel physician had stitched up his wound, in the next few hours, he listened to the Highlander. As he swore he would, Duncan told his  
husband everything, except for that one secret that both he and Methos shared. After the Scot had made his confession, he enticed the Arab moor into bed and they made love, with Ahmad desperate to utterly possess the other. Duncan gave himself completely to his husband, allowing the sheik to use him in so many imaginative ways possible. And, yes, Ahmad was so tender with his wife, despite his transgression, handling him like spun glass. Still, lost in the mindlessness of their coupling, at one point, Duncan had spoken  
Adam's name. Although it tore at his heart, Ahmad pretended not to hear it.

When they were finally sated, they both lay on their sides, with Duncan's body spooned against his husband's. The desert chieftain wrapped his arm around the Scot's waist.

Moving closer, Ahmad whispered, "Adam is right. You must choose between us."

Duncan didn't answer. Instead, he closed his eyes, his hand tightening on the pillow beneath his cheek.

 

Night had fallen when Ahmad awakened from slumber. Seeing the empty space beside him, the desert chieftain's heart sank. It was obvious that the Highlander had made his choice.

Listlessly, he donned his clothes, not even bothering to summon an attendant to help him get dressed. He had no desire of seeing anyone this eve. The only company that Ahmad desired was his sorrow and a bottle of wine.

So it was to his great shock that the doors to his suite banged open and Methos stormed inside.

"Where's Duncan, you damned bastard?" the ancient demanded, grabbing fistfuls of the sheik's robe. "He called me up, saying that he didn't want to see me any longer.

"He's not here!" Ahmad answered back. "I thought he was with you!"

Methos' eyes narrowed at the sight of the Arab's bleeding palm. "What happened to your hand, Ahmad? What the hell did you do to Duncan? Did you rape him or had someone abuse him like you did the last time he displeased you?"

"Yes, I almost abused him, but I didn't. After the things that occurred between us, hurting Duncan is the last thing I would do!"

"Damn you, Ahmad! If I find out that you've harmed him in any way, I'll..."

Jai suddenly barged into the suite. Before the ancient could land a blow, the eunuch grabbed him and dragged him away from his master.

Holding his aching neck, the desert chieftain declared in fury, "I should kill you for making me a cuckold!"

"I would do the same to you. You turned the man I love into a whore! Bastard! You don't know the character of the man you had ruined! Now tell me where he is so that I could take him away from you!"

"And I told you I don't know where he is! He was gone from my bed when I awoke. Even if I did know where Duncan is, I'm not a fool to give my wife to the man who had broken his heart twice!"

Before the two rivals for the Highlander's love could come to blows, a quiet voice interrupted them.

"We know where he is."

Whirling, they beheld Nagat and Inanna standing nervously before them.

"My wives," Ahmad asked breathlessly, "where did Duncan go?"

"Back home to his boat," Inanna replied. "He took his fish with him."

Nagat gazed at the two men. "Husband, Adam, you have no idea of the kind of emotional turmoil you're putting him through. He wants to be alone, to think things over very carefully. Please give him time."

"Unfortunately, time is a luxury that Duncan does not have." Ahmad turned to Jai. "Have the driver ready the limousine. We are going to Duncan. Adam, you are coming along. We are going to settle this once and for all."

The sheik gave his wives a warning glare. "I forbid you from calling him and alerting him of our arrival. Forgive me, Nagat, Inanna. I know how you feel, but I must put an end to this charade."

"Ahmad is right, ladies," Methos agreed wholeheartedly. "Only Duncan could settle this."

Nagat breathed in deeply. "Gentlemen, I hope you are right about this. But I fear that it is Duncan whom you will destroy if you force him to make this choice."

The departure of Ahmad and Methos minutes later did not escape the notice of the man who sat patiently at his favorite table in the lobby. Earlier, he had riled at the steward for failing to inform him of the Highlander's abrupt departure from the hotel.

Laying down his magazine, he casually strolled out the doors of the hotel, just as the valet wheeled his rental car up front. Giving the man a tip, he got into his car and rode out into the street, keeping a discreet distance between himself and Ahmad's limousine.

The light of the street lamps illuminated the sly smile that curled up his lips.

 

Duncan sat on the floor beside the coffee table, gazing at his beloved goldfish who were peering back at him with concern.

Patting the glass, the Highlander prayed over and over again. "Please don't make them come! Please don't make them come!"

It was a plea that would be denied him.

The Scot jerked in shock as heavy footsteps thudded on the deck. Then, the door burst open, revealing Ahmad and Adam.

As the two men approached, Duncan stood up, taking several steps back. "Stay away! Please!"

"You know why we're here, Duncan," Methos began formally.

"This is the only way that we could end this." Ahmad said beggingly, "Duncan, you must choose between us."

Duncan shook his head. "But I don't want to choose. Please don't force me to do this!"

"Neither of us is willing to give you up," the desert chieftain exclaimed. "If you don't make a choice, I could push my hand. By the laws of my land, you are my wife. That is the reason why I came here to Paris -- I want to bring you back with me to Saudi Arabia. You belong to me!"

"Duncan, I know you love me," Methos declared just as strongly. "No law could bind the cries of your heart. You may be his wife in name, but your heart and soul are mine."

"Choose, Duncan!" Ahmad insisted.

"For God's sake, MacLeod!" the ancient said in frustration. "Choose now!"

"Stop it! Stop it both of you!" Duncan screamed, tearing his hair out. "If either of you truly love me, you would not drive me insane! You demand that I choose? Why should I choose among the two of you, when both of you only think of me as a thing to be possessed…as property! This is not love if neither of you would consider my feelings and how this matter is tearing me apart!" The Scot struggled to remove the band on his wrist and the ring. "You want me to choose? Then I choose none of you! Both of you could just go to hell!"

Saying this, Duncan threw the jewelry at them, with the ring falling with a plop inside the fish bowl. Both his lovers begged for him not to go, but the stricken Highlander would not heed their cries. Yanking the door open, he ran out on deck and dashed down the gangplank, heading for the quay. Duncan would've ran to the farthest corners of the earth.

But as he reached the bridge, the Scot was jolted by the Buzz of another Immortal. Before he could take evasive action, a strong hand pulled him into the shadows and a chloroform-drenched cloth pressed over his face. Duncan struggled not to breath, but the fumes gradually overwhelmed his senses. In the distance, he could vaguely hear Ahmad and Methos calling his name.

"I'm here! Ahmad! Adam!" he cried weakly under his gag. Earnestly, he prayed that they would come and save him.

However, all hope vanished when he beheld the face of his abductor.

"It's been a very long time, Duncan MacLeod!" the man above him grinned. "Who'd ever thought that my sweet puppy would grow up into a beautiful Immortal whore of the desert. I guess you learned well the lessons I have taught you when you were a child. Perhaps you could show me what else you've learned in the centuries that we've been  
apart."

Duncan had only one last coherent thought before he succumbed to drug-induced darkness.

_Ahmad! Methos! Please help me! It's Bryan MacTavish!_

 


	7. Chapter 7

Please read Mary T. Ewing's "[Desert Interlude](http://www.mtewing.com)" before proceeding.

 

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

 

Duncan awoke in darkness. With his head still dizzy, he at first thought that he was still drugged. As his mind and his vision cleared, however, he began to notice other things as well – the closed surroundings, the dank odor of death and decay. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a series of stone shelves. Arranged on those shelves were grinning skulls.

Fear and the cold air chilled his skin, and it was only then that he realized with horror what his position was. Totally naked, Duncan was tied securely to a metal bar in a kneeling position. The ropes were coiled around his neck and the join between arm and shoulder, chafing his armpits. From his bound wrists, the ropes formed a tight frame  
around his chest, tightened above and below his pectorals that the muscles jutted forward like small breasts. More ropes descended to his thighs and ankles, causing his legs to be spread apart. A thin cord was tied tightly around the base of both his cock and scrotum.  
His bonds were loose enough to allow him to sit on his haunches, but still secure to prevent his escape. Gingerly, Duncan tested his bonds, but he was held fast.

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as evil laughter rang out, echoing through the tunnels.

"It's useless to struggle, Duncan," MacTavish declared as he emerged from the shadows. "You can't break free from those ropes."

"Damn you, MacTavish! Let me go!" Duncan railed at his abductor. "I have powerful friends who won't stop until they find me."

"Do you think your friends could find you here? These are the Catacombs. It would take them forever to scour these tunnels. By the time they figure out where you are, you'd be long gone from here. I am thinking of taking you with me to my home in Istanbul. Unlike Beni Ibn Al Ahmad, I won't be so stupid as to let you out of my sight for one second. I will keep you under lock and key in my harem for eternity."

Despite his anger, Duncan's body trembled with fear at the unwanted memories the trader invoked in him. When MacTavish slowly approached, he instinctively cringed back as far as his bonds would allow. A finger traced his full mouth and he turned his head away.

"Your lips are still as lovely as I remembered them," MacTavish dreamily noted. "Let me guess. You've been pleasuring your lovers with your mouth, haven't you? That's what I remembered the most about that time with you. You were a natural. Could you still please me with these luscious lips?"

"Put that damned thing inside my mouth and I swear I'll bite it off!"

Duncan's head whipped to the side, as a hard hand struck him in the face. The Highlander tasted blood inside his mouth.

"I see that you're still the same stubborn whelp."

"If you think I'm going to allow you to do that to me again, you're wrong!"

MacTavish laughed at that strong declaration. "Did you think that letting you suck my cock is all that I want to do with you? Now that you have...experience, we could do more. A hell of a lot more!"

Duncan shuddered all over as the evil trader began to fondle the mounds of his chest with his right hand. When MacTavish tweaked his left nipple, he started to struggle once more.

"Keep your filthy hands off me!" the Highlander screamed, twisting his body from side to side to avoid that loathsome touch. He was awaiting another blow to come. Surprisingly, none came.

Through the sudden deathly silence, Duncan heard the soft tap of boot heels as MacTavish walked behind him. There was a tug and he found himself falling forward as the line tying him to the metal bar was cut. Despite this, his other bonds remained secure.

Before he could swing his body onto his back, his captor pushed his head to the ground and yanked his ass upward.

Duncan's blood ran cold, hearing MacTavish's next words. "I see you still haven't learned your lesson. You know how much I hate a disobedient child."

"No!" the Scot gasped. "Please no!"

Blinding pain shot through his entire form as the metal bar that the trader had jerked from the floor connected with his buttocks. Again and again, the blows came. He didn't realize that he had been screaming until he felt the rawness in his throat.

Still, desperate to halt the steady stream of punishing strikes, Duncan somehow managed to cry, "Enough! Please! I can't take it anymore! I'll do anything you say! Just please stop it!"

Mercifully, the punishment ended. Fingers entwined in his hair and he was jerked up once more, whimpering as his battered and bleeding buttocks pressed against his legs and feet. He could feel the raw ragged flesh that his ass had become.

Two fingers lifted Duncan's chin, forcing the younger Immortal to gaze into the leering eyes of the man who had abused him when he was child, and was about to do the same now.

"Are you going to behave now, my pretty puppy?" MacTavish inquired, grinning.

Not trusting his voice, the Highlander nodded instead.

"Prove it then," the evil trader dared his helpless captive.

Duncan held his breath as his nipples were captured between callused fingertips. He bit down on his lower lip, blood trickling from the cut, as MacTavish pulled and twisted on the taut nubs. When the Immortal's mouth seized his tit and proceeded to suckle upon him, the tears started to flow from his anguished doe eyes. But this was merely a prelude to the degradations that were to come.

MacTavish stood up, giving the Highlander a temporary respite. Duncan knew what was to come next, when he heard the scratchy noise of a zipper being pulled down. The Scot shuddered, feeling his abductor scraping his rising shaft against his abused nipples.

"Open your mouth!" MacTavish ordered, pressing the tip of his erection to the younger man's rose lips.

Bound and helpless, Duncan had no choice but to obey. Lips parting, he tilted his head back to allow the smooth passage of that iron rod into his throat. Yes, this was one lesson he had learned well from his abuser. Effortlessly, the Highlander worked his throat muscles to accommodate the thrusts of that fucking cock so that he wouldn't choke. But even the Scot had his limits. The taste of MacTavish's gushing fluids into his mouth induced the gag reflex. Before he could vomit out his captor's putrid seed, the evil Immortal thrust his cock deeply into Duncan's throat.

"Swallow it, you whelp!" MacTavish shouted at him. "Gulp it all!" Duncan eyes squeezed tightly shut as he did as he was told. When he had consumed it all, he collapsed to the floor, the cock slipping out of his mouth as he gasped for breath.

Before he could know relief, MacTavish picked him up and propped him against the wall, extending his long legs forward. The Highlander winced as his raw ass rubbed on the stone floor.

Removing the cord around Duncan's genitals, the evil Immortal swooped down and engulfed his captive's cock to the root. Whimpering, the Scot shook his head left and right, feeling his balls tighten in their sac and his shaft fill to the bursting point. Despite his desire for control, his body demanded release. With gritted teeth, Duncan shamefully shot out his load into his abductor's gaping maw. Unlike the service that the Highlander did for him, MacTavish let go of Duncan's spurting cock, gathering the fluids in his hand and coating his own member with it.

Gripping the Scot's hips, MacTavish hoisted him up, positioning his eager erection toward the rosebud that lay hidden within the crevice.

A ragged scream was torn from Duncan's throat as he was completely impaled. With fiendish glee, MacTavish bounced the poor Highlander on his lap, his brutal fingers tearing again the healing welts of his buttocks. To add to his torment, that devilish mouth clamped tight on his nipple, suckling and chewing on it fiercely that Duncan thought  
the older man would bite it off.

There was a frustrated groan coming from his abuser. "No! Not yet!"

Duncan's eyes flew wide at that last devastating thrust, and warm fluid flooded his insides.

Weary, the Highlander slipped to the floor, his tears wetting the stone beneath his cheek. Not desiring to look at the man who had just raped him, he asked, begging, "Have I satisfied you enough, MacTavish? Please say yes. Let me go. I beg you to let me go!"

MacTavish, however, caressed his thigh and exclaimed, "Let you go? My dear Duncan! We've only just begun!"

Duncan burst into renewed tears at that reply. In his despair, his mind was suddenly filled with the images of the two men whom he knew would never hurt him the way MacTavish had. He wondered if this was his punishment for loving both Ahmad and Methos, and his unwillingness to give up either man.

_After this, Ahmad, Methos,_ the Highlander thought bitterly,_would you still want me? I was so selfish. I thought I could have both of you. But now, I'm going to lose you two after all. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!_

In the darkness of the Catacombs, it was so easy to lose track of the time. What seemed like an eternity of beatings and rapes for Duncan, in truth, only a single day had passed. But it was enough to numb the Scot's mind and senses. If he hadn't shut down his mental faculties in this short period, he would've gone insane.

MacTavish had just fucked him again. The trader was snoring beside him, a possessive arm draped over his bleeding chest. That limp appendage was heavy on his battered nipples and he wanted to push that arm back to relieve the pressure. At first, Duncan didn't realize that his freed hand had acted on this need for even a moment's relief. He stopped himself before he could actually touch the evil Immortal.

For a moment, Duncan blinked at his hand, moving it this way and that, turning it forward and back. He even wiggled his fingers. To be certain, he tested his other hand, sliding it across the stone floor, his fingers instinctively tightening around the metal bar.

The Highlander began to pant hard, the anger rising inside him. MacTavish must have felt the rapid rise and fall of Duncan's chest that he drowsily lifted his head.

At that instant, the metal bar came crashing down on the trader's head. Dazed, MacTavish fell to the side, clutching his bleeding cranium.

Duncan, however, was determined to get even with the Immortal. Again and again, he brought that bar down. When he had burned out his rage, MacTavish was a bloody mess before him.

With an anguished wail, the shocked Scot began to weep anew, burying his face in his bloodied hands. Overwhelmed by the ordeal he had to endure, it never occurred to Duncan to look for the trader's sword.

Suddenly, a hand clamped tight on his thigh. Duncan gazed down in horror to find the bloody pulp that was MacTavish's face grinning up at him.

"You're not going to get rid of me that easily, Duncan," the evil Immortal told the Highlander.

Crying out in disgust, the Scot struck MacTavish in the head once more and pushed his hand from his lap. Swiftly, he got to his feet and fled into the tunnels, not even bothering to pick up his discarded robe.

On and on, Duncan ran, caring not where his feet take him, just as long as it was far away from his abductor.

But then, he stopped dead in his tracks, hearing MacTavish's voice echoing all over the Catacombs.

"There's no place for you to run, Duncan," the evil Immortal shouted. "I'm coming for you!"

Panic prompted the Highlander to move. As he ran through the Catacombs, he could hear MacTavish's footsteps getting closer and closer. He would not dare look back, however. In his haste to escape his pursuer, Duncan did not notice that he was running through familiar passageways once trodden by his Immortal friend, Ursa.

Soon, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. As he ran toward it, Duncan just found himself emerging into the brightly lit night streets of Paris, right in front of the Paris Opera House. For a moment, he thought he was safe at last and he let out a happy  
cry...that is, until a bloody hand grabbed his arm. Whirling, he saw Bryan MacTavish grinning malevolently at him.

"You belong to me, Duncan MacLeod!" the evil Immortal declared.

"Never, MacTavish!" Duncan roared. "NEVER!"

Yanking his arm out of MacTavish's grasp, the Highlander dashed down the steps and ran right into the middle of the street, almost getting struck by a car.

Duncan blinked in shock at the headlights of the car. But then, he heard a familiar voice exclaim, "MacLeod! God damn it! Where the hell have you been? My God, what the hell happened to you?"

"MACLEOD!" MacTavish's cry of rage jolted through his terror-stricken being.

"Get in the car, LeBrun!" Duncan screamed. "He's coming!"

"Who's coming?" the shocked inspector asked, pulling out his gun.

But the Scot shoved LeBrun back into the driver's seat. "Get me out of here! Please!"

Swiftly, Duncan got into the seat beside the inspector. To his relief, LeBrun had the presence of mind to drive away, just as MacTavish reached the street.

"Dear Lord, MacLeod!" he heard the inspector declare, seeing his pitiful state. "What the hell happened to you? I should take you to the hospital."

"No! No hospital!" the Highlander cried.

"What about the hotel? Everyone's looking for you!"

"No hospital and certainly not the hotel!" Duncan lifted tear-filled eyes to the Parisian detective. "Please, LeBrun! I've never asked you for a favor before. You could take me anywhere else, except a hospital or the hotel."

Through misting eyes, the Scot saw the inspector shake his head.

"Damn you, Duncan!" LeBrun cursed under his breath. "You're going to get me into trouble!"

"I can explain everything. Please, LeBrun. Just take me some place where I could get a hold of myself. You'll understand."

"God, I hope so! I'm taking you to my flat. I hope you won't mind the mess."

"No, I won't," Duncan whispered. Then, to the shock of Inspector LeBrun, the Highlander's head fell on his lap as he drifted off to exhausted sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Please read Mary T. Ewing's "[Desert Interlude](http://www.mtewing.com)" before proceeding.

 

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

 

Inspector LeBrun's home turned out to be a modest flat in an old apartment building in a suburb of the city.

Wrapping up his injured charge in his trench coat, the detective assisted Duncan up the stairs and into the lift, going to the third floor. They trudged through a narrow hallway before stopping at Room 310. Opening the door, LeBrun, helped the Highlander inside,  
switching on the lights.

"You're not home much, are you, LeBrun?" Duncan quietly inquired, noting the clothes strewn all over the flat and the pile of unwashed dishes in the sink.

"I don't get much company, MacLeod." The inspector pulled up a stool for the weary Scot, and he hastened to pick up his mess on the couch, one of them, much to Duncan's amusement, were a pair of dirty underwear. Taking Duncan's arm, the detective led him over to the couch, laying a fluffy cushion near the armrest. "I have a housekeeper who comes once a week," LeBrun continued. "Unfortunately, this is not her scheduled day to clean my place up. I hope you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind at all," Duncan reassured his host.

"To be honest, I'm not really this messy, but I have a very difficult case right now."

Duncan grimaced as he sat down on his tender backside. To ease the pressure off his behind, he leaned sideways against the armrest. "What kind of case?"

"A very ugly one, I'm afraid. Something HQ wants kept quiet about." LeBrun went inside the bathroom to get a basin of warm water, some paper towels and his First Aid kit. "These past five days, three boys have been found in various parts of the city -- beaten, raped and murdered."

Hearing that last, the Scot turned pale. "Beaten?"

"Yes," the inspector replied, bringing his items over and laying them on the table. "The boys had all been brutally battered on the ass. Forensics believed that the instrument used was a cane."

Duncan swallowed hard. "These children...were they forced to commit fellatio?"

LeBrun frowned at that question. "There were traces of sperm inside their mouths as well as in their rectums. But how did you know this?"

In answer, the Highlander stood up and slowly pulled up the hem of the coat. "Their injuries, Inspector... Did they look like these?"

The more the Parisian detective's frown deepened at the sight of the black and blue welts on Duncan's buttocks.

"My God!" LeBrun couldn't hold back his exclamation of shock. Urging the Scot to lie down on his stomach, he said, "Yes, they are exactly the same, but how..."

The inspector was about to cleanse the welts on the Highlander's behind when he was halted by a most astounding sight. On one gaping wound, tiny bolts of lightning streaked across the wound, slowly knitting and healing the torn flesh. Before his eyes, one small cut faded away as it was healed by the lightning. He gingerly raised a finger to touch the place where the cut once was and found the skin whole and unblemished.

Glancing back at the startled police officer, Duncan said, "Yes, LeBrun. I think I know who committed these crimes."

"That's not what I was going to ask you just now." Waving his hand in bewilderment to Highlander's form, LeBrun stammered, "MacLeod...how did...what..."

"Why don't you pull up a chair, Inspector? We really must talk about this."

LeBrun moved to his armchair, nearest the Scot's head.

"I owe you an explanation, LeBrun," Duncan began with much hesitation. "I know how frustrated you were that I wouldn't cooperate with you in your previous cases that I was involved in. This seemingly miraculous healing is the reason why." Taking a deep  
breath, the Highlander revealed, "I am Immortal, Inspector, same as Kuyler and Xavier St. Cloud. Grace Chantelle was also Immortal, although it was her obsessed lover, who was also like us, who had murdered her husband."

LeBrun couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Is this a joke?"

But the Scot shook his head. "You've seen my wounds heal right before your eyes, so you know that this is not a joke. I'm telling you the truth, LeBrun. This is the reason why I couldn't allow you to take me to the hospital. If people were to know that beings such as we existed... Anyway, please let me tell you everything so that you would understand."

In the next few hours, Duncan revealed to the inspector the entire truth about Immortals, about the men whom LeBrun had been pursuing, the things they have done centuries past and what had actually happened to them. The Parisian detective also ended becoming the second man, next to his husband, to whom he had confided with regarding the atrocity that Bryan MacTavish had committed upon him when he was still a child, something which stunned the inspector.

"This bastard is Immortal?" LeBrun exclaimed in shock. "Damn! Unless he is decapitated, it would be useless to arrest him and put him in prison. He'll end up escaping every time. God, those poor children! To think I had begged their parents not to reveal the details of the case to media, with my sworn oath that I would apprehend this monster. Will there be no justice for them? What if MacTavish strikes again?"

"He won't," Duncan said in certainty.

"How could you be so sure?"

"Because it's me he wants now, and he won't stop until he does get me."

Uncomfortable silence fell between the two men.

Then, LeBrun mumbled, "That is not an option, MacLeod. I won't allow that you fall into his hands. Same as those children, it is my duty to protect you. In a way," the inspector began with deep regret, "I blame myself for what happened to you."

It was Duncan's turn to look curiously at the tenacious police officer. "Why do you say that?"

LeBrun's cheeks immediately flushed with color. To the Scot's disguised amusement, his blush actually rose to his bald pate.

"I've been staking you out, Duncan," the inspector reluctantly admitted. "Call it a gut feeling, but after that scene in the hotel lobby when I brought you to Ahmad, I knew something was going to happen."

"I suppose you also knew about my relationship with Dr. Adam Pierson."

The Parisian detective nodded. "I've even done a check on him in Seacouver. As I expected, your name popped up as a close associate of Pierson. Anyway, I thought that you might be in some trouble with Ahmad if word of your relationship with Pierson reaches him. However, this case fell on my desk and I couldn't watch you any longer. Then, this morning, I got a telephone call from the lady Nagat, and I thought that things have finally come to a head. She told me that you had a...fight...with both Ahmad and Pierson, and that you ran away. But I never expected this."

"Yes, I had a confrontation with Ahmad and Adam. Both were demanding that I choose between, something which I couldn't do, so I fled. That's how I fell into MacTavish's clutches."

"Duncan, I have promised Nagat that I would call her when I found you. Her husband does not know that she contacted me about this. Before I left the station, I've heard that Beni Ibn Al Ahmad went to the Police HQ with his bodyguards to file a Missing Persons Report, but he was advised to wait for twenty-four hours in case you would appear. I was heading for the hotel to talk to Lady Nagat, since Ahmad and Adam were out scouring the city for you. I decided to take a short cut through the street near the Paris Opera House." LeBrun shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess I was the lucky one."

"And you just couldn't believe how greatly relieved I was when I saw you," Duncan admitted. "I never thought I'd be so happy to see you. You were like an angel come to save me."

"Angels are not bald, MacLeod," the inspector remarked, blushing at that praise. Slapping his hands on his thighs, he asked, "So, what are we going to do now?"

"MacTavish is our priority, before he decides to molest and kill innocent children if he couldn't find me. Damn it! If only I had my sword...."

"In your condition, I suggest that we let the law handle this for now. This is merely a temporary solution, but at least we could keep MacTavish in prison, where he could do no harm to any child or you. I'm going to call up HQ, tell them that I have a lead from an  
anonymous contact. I had a good look at MacTavish. I have a neighbor in this building who's an artist. A sketch could be done and I could have it ID-ed at the station. I'm sure he's using an alias."

"Yes, I think that would be best for now."

The inspector gazed into the Scot's brown eyes. "What about Ahmad and Adam? What do I tell Nagat?"

Duncan breathed in deeply. "Tell them that you haven't found me, that you're busy with a case. LeBrun, if you don't mind, I'd like to stay here for awhile. I'm not ready to face them yet. I don't have the courage to tell them what had happened to me. I'm afraid they might...."

"If, as they say, they truly love you, they would know that this is not your fault. You were a victim." LeBrun cautiously remarked, "I think you're afraid of something else. Duncan, no matter what you do, you cannot get away from the choice you have to make. You must choose between them."

"I know that I must, but how could I choose when I love them both and that I don't want to see either of them get hurt?"

"Do you always fall in love like this? So deeply and completely?" the inspector inquired, unable to hide his amusement.

The Highlander smiled. "Unfortunately, yes."

"In a way, I'm relieved that I don't share the attraction that Adam and Ahmad have for you. In this line of work that I'm in, you cannot just give your heart to a woman, knowing that she might end up in danger because of my profession and the enemies that I have made."

"I understand your sentiments, LeBrun. In some small measure, that's how it feels to be Immortal. You are so afraid to love, since you'll always lose them in the end. Still, about you..." Duncan gazed meaningfully at the brave detective. "Even if you are not attracted to me in that way, I am honored that you would protect me like this. And even if there were some differences between us in the past, you have always been just as important to me. After all, you are a very good friend."

Friend. LeBrun tested that word on his tongue and it sounded good. After learning the things that the Scot had done for him, he realized that even back then, as the Immortal had told him that fateful day on the barge, Duncan was on his side. A true friend indeed. Something which, unfortunately, he had not been to the Highlander. Well, things were going to be different now.

"LeBrun?" came that timid query from the Immortal. "If we are truly friends now, may I know your name please?"

The inspector grimaced at that question. "Duncan, it is just 'LeBrun'."

"Why? Is your name such an embarrassment that you wouldn't tell me what it is?"

"Not really, but..." With a defeated sigh, the inspector blurted out. "It's Francois. My mother named me after St. Francis."

A weak, but amused giggle was elicited from Duncan's lips. "Oh, I understand your dilemma, LeBrun. Francois... It is so..."

Lebrun snorted. "Yes, MacLeod. I know. It's so typically French."

"Francois?"

"Duncan?"

"Please promise me you won't tell anyone where I am."

LeBrun breathed in deeply. "Oui, Duncan. I promise."

 

Early the next morning, the inspector went to the barge to pick up a few clothes, including the katana, for his guest. Afterwards, however, as a true friend would do, LeBrun went straight to the hotel and the desert chieftain's suite. He had to wait for a few more minutes for Adam Pierson's arrival. Now that he was standing before the two men who strongly vied for the Highlander's love, LeBrun could clearly understand why Duncan cared for them both.

Ahmad and Adam looked very haggard from searching for their missing love. The eyes of the two men were red and puffy from lack of sleep and, possibly, from weeping as well. To his surprise, he saw that there were packed suitcases standing beside the divan.

Noticing the inspector's eye on the suitcases, Ahmad explained, "I'm supposed to leave for Saudi Arabia today, but how could I go knowing that Duncan..."

"And I told you that I would look for him," Adam retorted. "Damn it, Ahmad! You should learn to trust me!"

"Why should I trust a viper such as you? If you were to find him, you would never inform me of the fact!"

Hearing their voices, Nagat and the sheikh's second wife Inanna emerged from the other room.

"Please, Gentlemen!" Nagat declared sternly. "We know not what has happened to Duncan and you bicker here like idiots."

"Nagat..." Ahmad said with a warning growl. "I advised you from speaking out of turn."

"But she only speaks the truth, my husband," Inanna retorted just as strongly. "In case you've forgotten, if it were not for the two of you fighting like dogs in heat over him, none of this would have happened. This is your fault, and you know it!"

"I already admit to the blame," the desert chieftain declared in anguish, pressing the heel of his right hand over his eyes, as his tears began to pour once more. LeBrun noticed that fiercely clutched in Ahmad's left fist were a bracelet and a ring. Despite the animosity between them, Adam gently rubbed the distraught man's back. With a choked sob, he glanced up at Pierson. "If Allah wills that we're to find him, I will gladly relinquish him to you. I would be happy to lose him in this battle of hearts, just as long as he is returned to us safely."

For his part, Adam didn't say anything, his lips stern line on his face. The inspector knew that, unlike the sheikh, he would not give up the Highlander. Already, LeBrun's heart was filled with dread for what might happen if Duncan were to make his choice.

Clearing his throat, LeBrun decided to give the information to them straight. "I found Duncan MacLeod."

Everyone let out a happy cry at the Parisian detective's announcement, but LeBrun raised his hands, halting their cheers.

"Where is he?" Adam asked in earnest.

"Tell us where he is!" Ahmad demanded.

"Please! Let me speak!" LeBrun begged them. "Right now, he's in my flat. Duncan made me promise not to reveal to you his whereabouts, but I had to break my word to him, especially after what had happened to him."

"Is Duncan hurt?" the sheikh asked fearfully. "Damn it, man! Speak up!"

The inspector paused for a minute, hesitant about revealing everything to them. But if they loved the Scot, they had to know.

"When he fled from you," LeBrun began his narrative, "Duncan was abducted and hidden in the Catacombs...where he was brutally beaten and raped."

Deep shock was reflected on the faces of everyone in the suite. The inspector continued his narration, telling them all that the Scot had suffered at the hands of his abuser, the escape that followed and their chance encounter in the street.

Ahmad's hands clenched into his fists. "Do you know who did this to him?"

"Yes," LeBrun nodded. "But I cannot tell you his name, not until we're absolutely sure of his identity. I'm simply awaiting a call from HQ right now."

"Inspector, you said that my wife is staying with you. May I see him? Please?"

"I was going to suggest that, my Lord, but I'm afraid it must not be you." LeBrun turned to Adam. "Dr. Pierson, you must come with me."

"Why should it be, Adam?" Ahmad asked in despair. "Don't I have the right to see him?"

"But Dr. Pierson and Duncan have known each other for years. Before they became lovers, they were good friends. If anyone could reach him, I'm sure Adam can."

Adam noticed the crestfallen expression on the sheikh's face. "I'll bring Duncan to you before you leave. I swear this to you."

Ahmad, however, lowered his gaze, his whole positive that of a defeated man. "My feelings are not important. Please see that he's all right."

"Yes, Ahmad," Adam nodded. "I'll do that."

 

Methos and LeBrun drove back to the inspector's flat in relative silence. The ancient, though, noticed the surreptitious glances that the Parisian detective was giving him.

It was when they arrived and the police officer parked his car near the curb that Methos finally spoke up.

"There's something that you deliberately did not tell us, Inspector." Methos stated it as a fact.

"Duncan knows the man who raped him -- Bryan MacTavish," LeBrun softly replied. "The same man who had raped him when he was a child of nine...over four hundred years ago."

"So...he told you about us."

"It's not as if he had a choice in the matter. Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me. I owe it to Duncan, after the many times he had saved my life."

"Why did you bring me here, LeBrun? Why not Ahmad?" It was only then that the ancient looked directly at the police officer. "He had made his choice, hasn't he?"

"No," LeBrun said truthfully. "He doesn't know that I'm bringing you here. Duncan wanted to be alone."

"Then why?"

"Duncan's very troubled, you see. The choice that you and Ahmad are forcing him to make is tearing at his soul, perhaps even more than the rape he had endured. There isn't any doubt in my mind that he loves you both...equally. I thought that if he were to talk to you, as an old friend rather than as a lover, you might put some sense into him."

"I doubt if that would happen. I love him, LeBrun. I have no intention of losing him to Ahmad."

"But you already have, two years ago to be exact. Duncan is Ahmad's third wife. The laws bind them together."

"Ahmad is willing to let go, just to ensure Duncan's happiness. You heard him."

"If you were in his place, would you not do the same?"

Methos' answer was strong and determined. "No, I would not."

LeBrun frowned at that reply. "It seems I made a mistake in bringing you here."

"Inspector, you don't understand my position." With great pains, Methos then confessed, "I've broken Duncan's heart twice, because I was too much of a coward to acknowledge my true feelings for him. This time, I have no intention of leaving him. I want to make things right for us. True, Ahmad is the better man than I, but I deserve another chance to prove my worth to him. Is that too much to ask?"

For a long while, LeBrun gazed into the depths of the ancient's green gold orbs. Smiling, he invited, "Come with me then. He's on the third floor."

When they reached the inspector's flat, however, the two men were shocked to find the door open a crack. Before LeBrun could pull out his gun, Methos had kicked the door wide open, unsheathing and twirling his sword as he stormed inside.

Their hearts sank, seeing the flat in shambles, as if there had been a fight or a fierce struggle.

"LeBrun, did you tell anyone else that Duncan's here?" Methos demanded, peering inside each room.

"I told no one," LeBrun exclaimed in frustration. "That bastard! MacTavish must have been watching the barge. I went there earlier to pick up Duncan's clothes and his sword. He must have followed me back here."

The ancient got down on one knee and produced the Highlander's katana, which had been kicked under the couch.

LeBrun burst into a flurry of curses. "I should never have left him alone!"

"It's not your fault, Inspector. What we have to do now is to find them."

Suddenly, the Parisian detective's cell phone began to ring. "Hello?" LeBrun answered it in French. "Yes, Thierry. What have you got?"

Methos listened as LeBrun talked to his fellow police officer.

As the call ended, the inspector told the Immortal, "MacTavish is going by the name of Brian Argyle. I've had my man Thierry Dordet run a computer check on all the possible places that he could depart from."

"And?" Methos asked impatiently.

As if in answer to his question, the phone rang once more.

"Thierry, did you find anything?" LeBrun immediately spoke into the phone. There was a short pause, and then the inspector suddenly exclaimed, "WHAT? No, I won't need any back up. Yes, I'm sure. Argyle is a suspect for questioning. I'll apprehend him myself." Tucking his phone back inside his pocket, LeBrun turned to Methos once more. "MacTavish has a flight to Istanbul at 10 am. Duncan is on that flight as well."

"Son of a bitch planned this all along!" Methos glanced at his watch. "It's 9:10. We'd better hurry or we may not be able to reach them in time."

"I've requested Thierry to order the airport personnel and security to delay them for as long as they can. We'll use my siren so that we could get there faster." LeBrun gave the ancient a grim smile. "We'll make it on time, Adam. As God is my witness, we'll save Duncan from that monster."

 


	9. Chapter 9

Please read Mary T. Ewing's "[Desert Interlud](http://www.mtewing.com)e" before proceeding.

 

**CHAPTER NINE**

 

In truth, at that very moment that LeBrun and Methos left the inspector's flat, Duncan and MacTavish were already at the airport. Somehow, the evil trader had acquired false papers identifying him as an Interpol agent and the Highlander as his prisoner for transport to Istanbul for trial.

Duncan was desperate to escape, but his wrists were handcuffed before him, the links of which were connected to a long titanium steel chain that was similarly attached to a shackle on MacTavish's left wrist. Even if he were free, hidden within the elder Immortal's coat was a semiautomatic machine gun.

The Scot barely heard the ringing of the phone followed by MacTavish's furious arguments with the security and customs officers, his mind a-whirl with thoughts of despair. No rescue was coming for him, and he knew it. Inside the pocket of his shirt, he felt the note that he had written earlier. Now, he could never be able to give it to....

Then, a tall stately figure caught his eye. The moor hesitantly walked through the airport, accompanied by his bodyguards, as if he wanted to delay his imminent departure. Following close behind him were his two wives with their attendants with the eunuch at the rear. Many times, Duncan blinked his eyes, wondering if it was only a desperate illusion conjured up by his mind. But the vision did not change. There his husband stood near the lounge, his body weary from the torment of not knowing what had happened to his beloved. The Arab even brushed his right hand over his eyes to wipe away the moisture filling them. Noticing his distress, his two other wives patted him in the shoulders to soothe him.

Hope welled up inside the Highlander's heart, as did his tears that began to flow once more. In his joy, that hope found its voice.

Before MacTavish could stop him, Duncan screamed, "AHMAD! AHMAD, HELP  
ME!"

 

Ahmad could only manage a sad nod as his pilot informed him that their plane would be leaving in a few minutes. From within the pocket of his coat, he pulled out two passports. As he gazed at Duncan MacLeod's name on the second passport, a tear fell unbidden from his eye.

Gentle hands were laid on his shoulders, and he turned his head left and right to find Nagat and Inanna smiling.

Wiping away his tear, Ahmad gruffly stated, "When we get home, I intend to punish you both for speaking to me the way you had earlier." He was dismayed to hear his voice sounding like a punished bulldog.

"I think you know how much we care for Duncan," Inanna quietly put in.

Yes, Ahmad knew indeed. It was his wives who had cared for the Scot following that most regretful incident with Abdullah El Sibae and his men.

"That was a very honorable thing you said, husband," Nagat commented in admiration. "Are you so willing to break the marriage bonds between you and Duncan?"

The desert chieftain nodded. "It is a great sacrifice I offer to Allah, as long as He returns Duncan safe to us all and that He would ensure the Highlander's happiness when we are apart." At these words, however, his tears started to flow. "Ah, my dear wives! It is indeed a great sacrifice, and it tears my soul apart that I would not be seeing him ever again."

"Adam is a man of his word," Inanna said strongly. She caressed the glass of the portable aquarium, which contained Duncan's mischievous goldfish that Pierson had given to him. "He will bring Duncan to us before we leave."

"And you must not forget Inspector LeBrun," Nagat quickly added, chagrined to find herself praising the bald Parisian detective. "He will deliver Duncan to us."

Ahmad turned his eyes to the viewing windows where he could see the bright blue sky. "Oh, Allah! I beg you! I know that I must give him up, but could I not see him one more time? Please, Lord! Let me behold my beloved's face one last time! Please let me see...."

"AHMAD!"

That familiar cry shot through the desert chieftain's heart like an arrow. Whirling, Ahmad's eyes widened in surprise and disbelief.

Standing about twenty feet from him was Duncan MacLeod. The Highlander's handsome face was lit up by a bright smile, his sweet doe eyes twinkling with hope.

But then, Ahmad's face darkened, seeing the man in a gray duster tug on the chain that was secured to the handcuffs on the Scot's wrists.

Duncan raised his bound hands in entreaty and screamed, "AHMAD, HELP ME!"

At that very instant, LeBrun and Methos arrived as well, with the ancient starting at the sound of Duncan's cry. A dark scowl formed on the inspector's brow at the sight of the evil man who was trying to drag the Highlander away. As LeBrun and Methos charged at MacTavish, so too did Ahmad, Jai and their bodyguards. After that, things seemed to move in an eerie slow motion.

It was MacTavish who first drew his gun, wrapping a tight arm around Duncan's neck as he did so.

"GET DOWN!" LeBrun shouted, waving the airline passengers back, just as MacTavish squeezed the trigger.

A hail of bullets blasted from the machine gun. On instinct, Jai shoved Ahmad down to the floor and shielded him with his body, while the other bodyguards dashed back to protect the women. Passengers and airport personnel scrambled for cover, as security started to return fire.

"NO! STOP!" Methos cried, fearing that they might shoot Duncan.

It was LeBrun who barked out, "HOLD YOUR FIRE!"

As the furor died down, the inspector saw MacTavish dash into a corridor with his captive.

LeBrun only had time to order the security personnel, "See if everyone's all right!" and a "Stay there!" to Ahmad and his men, before running into the hallway, with Methos close at his heels.

On and on, the ancient and the inspector relentlessly pursued their quarry, guided by Methos' Immortal senses.

"They're heading for the condemned hangar!" LeBrun told his companion. "He's trapped!"

Entering the abandoned building, sure enough, they found MacTavish with nowhere else to go. Undaunted, however, the evil Immortal pulled out his sword and placed the sharp edge over Duncan's throat.

"Stay back!" MacTavish warned them. "Or I'll take his head!"

"Put down that sword!" the inspector shouted back, his gun poised and ready to fire. Even Methos had his Ivanhoe in hand.

To emphasize his intent, the evil trader slashed the Highlander's neck, drawing blood.

"For God's sake, Adam, LeBrun!" Duncan cried. "Don't worry about me! Kill him before he hurts more innocent children! Kill him now!"

"Make another step," MacTavish roared, "and it's permanent death for him! Lower your damned weapons now!"

Fear for the Scot's life caused the ancient to do what the Immortal said. LeBrun, however, continued his cautious advance, determined not to give an inch.

"Stop right there, Inspector! Another step and I'll kill him right before your eyes!"

Unknown to MacTavish, the Parisian detective had him dead in his sights.

"I think not!" LeBrun muttered, as he fired, not once, but twice in rapid succession.

Methos stared in stunned disbelief as the first bullet hit MacTavish's hand, forcing him to drop his sword. As Duncan jerked free, the second bullet entered the evil Immortal's head, right between his eyes.

"ADAM, NOW!" the inspector roared to his companion, as he ran toward the Scot.

The ancient didn't have to be told twice. A cry of fury escaping his lips, Methos charged at the shocked trader. Before MacTavish could even fall to his knees, the former Horseman severed his head with one swift stroke.

As the energy of the Quickening began to build, white clouds swirling around the ancient, the Highlander gazed at the brave police officer who had just saved his life.

"LeBrun...." Duncan started to say, at a loss for words. But his tear-filled eyes spoke volumes.

"Yes, I know, Duncan." LeBrun then urged him, "Ahmad is leaving. If you want to see him, you'd better hurry."

Glancing at Methos' trembling, mist-shrouded form, the Scot pressed the note he had written into the inspector's hands. "Please give this to him."

"I will. Now go or you might miss him."

Nodding, the Highlander ran for the hangar exit. Still, he paused at the door.

Smiling at LeBrun, Duncan said, "Thank you, Francois, my friend!"

"I would call you friend as well if you would just stop calling me Francois!"

Duncan gave the inspector a peace sign. "Be safe, LeBrun."

"Be happy, MacLeod."

As the Scot ran off, LeBrun's attention was caught by Methos' agonized scream. With a gasp, he watched in horror as lightning snaked all over the hangar, converging at the Immortal, who was down on his knees with arms stretched above his head, his sword in his hands. Seeing those terrifying bolts of electricity, he remembered the damage at the mannequin factory where Kuyler had died. That building was stable at least, but this condemned hangar was a different matter.

"Oh my God!" LeBrun muttered in horrified realization, hearing the anguished moans of the rickety structure with every thundering explosion. "This whole place is going to cave in on us!"

 

"Let me go, Jai! Damn it! I'm your Master! I must save Duncan!"

"Forgive me, my Lord, but the inspector is right!" The eunuch held fast to his struggling ruler. "Your safety is our responsibility!"

Suddenly, Nagat gently requested, "You may release him now, Jai. Things are finally all right."

When Jai released him, Ahmad was about to turn and give his underling a tongue lashing, but the breathless figure standing a short distance from him caught his attention in an instant. The desert chieftain was caught speechless, blinking several times to be certain that the vision before him had not faded away.

But then, the vision spoke, "Ahmad? Ahmad...."

"Duncan..." the sheikh breathed out the name of his third wife.

Tears glimmered in Duncan's eyes as he asked, "Ahmad...MacTavish, he...." Moist streaks formed in the corners of his eyes going down his cheeks. "Ahmad, I am not...worthy, but...would you...would you..."

The desert chieftain knew what the Highlander was trying to say, that the younger man had, at last, made his choice.

Although he was weeping as well, there was a warm smile on Ahmad's face.

"Yes, Duncan," he said simply. "I would."

 

Somehow, LeBrun managed to drag a very weak Methos away from the rubble of the collapsed hangar.

"If this is the way you Immortals live," the inspector panted for breath as they slumped down on the ground, "I'm glad I'm just an ordinary human being."

"Why don't you look on the bright side, Inspector?" Methos remarked, just as breathless. "Thanks to the power of the Quickening, that glass panel landed conveniently on the very spot where MacTavish's body is. I've just saved you a lot of paperwork."

"But how could I explain this?" LeBrun gestured helplessly to the ruins before him.

"Tell them that MacTavish had explosives on his body and that he set it off accidentally." The ancient stood up. "Now where the hell did Duncan go?"

Before the Immortal could walk off, LeBrun raised the note to him. "Duncan asked me to give you this."

Because of all the excitement, the inspector had not been able to read the Highlander's letter, but he had a good idea what was written on it, judging from the expression of shock on the ancient's handsome face.

Without saying a word, Methos crumpled up the note in his fist and threw it to the ground, right at the Parisian detective's feet and ran back to the main airport terminal.

Sighing, LeBrun picked up the crumpled ball and, opening it, read what was written.

  
_Methos,_

_By the time you read this letter, I would be with Ahmad, flying back to _ _Saudi Arabia_ _._

_I know that, by my actions, it would seem that I had made my choice. But I had not. I love you both too much that I could not bear to lose either of you. For a whole night, I pondered over this predicament carefully, and I could only think of only one solution._

_Ahmad is an ordinary human being, and like all humans, he will die someday. Right now, the marriage vows bind us; till death do us part. I will honor my vow to him until that day he leaves me for the afterlife._

_Methos, please forgive me for leaving you, but it is Ahmad who needs me more. Life is too short for him, while we have an eternity. This is nothing more than a temporary parting._

_I swear an oath to you. When the time comes that I am free of my vows, I will come back to you. I hold my love for you deep inside my heart. Nothing could ever diminish it, not even the passage of a mortal's lifetime. My most fervent wish is that you will await my  
return, and that when I do, you will welcome me back into your heart._

_I love you, Methos. On my life, I swear that I will return to you someday._

With all my love,  
_Duncan__  
&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;  
&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;_

 

The inspector smoothed out the paper and folded it neatly. Standing, he went after the ancient.

LeBrun found the Immortal, standing with his hands and face pressed to the viewing window. The despair was clearly etched on his features as he watched Beni Ibn Al Ahmad's private jet take off.

Carefully, the inspector tucked Duncan's note inside the ancient's shirt pocket. "This is only temporary, Adam. Duncan gave you his word that he would come back to you."

"If he thinks I'm giving him up that easily to another man..." Methos banged his fist on the glass. LeBrun thought, for a moment, that it would break. "He's dead wrong!"

Frowning, the inspector asked, "What are you planning to do?"

With gritted teeth, the ancient answered, "What else? I'm going to Saudi Arabia after them."

"I fear that you would be making a big mistake if you do that."

"I cannot sit here and wait for Ahmad to die." Methos' green gold eyes glinted with fierce determination as he looked at the disappearing speck in the sky. "I'm going to get Duncan back, LeBrun, and no man is going to stand in my way!"

  
**THE END???**

 


End file.
